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AND 


THEIR    PATIENTS 


FIFTY   AUTHENTIC  GHOST   STORIES   BY 
FIFTY  EXPERIENCED  PHYSICIANS. 


Interspersed   With   Funny   Jokes 

AND   Incidents    That    Have 

Actually  Occurred. 


Compiled  and  Published 

By  J.  L.  Short,  M.  D. 

^     Oklahoma  City,  U.  S.  A. 


Bntered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1901, 

By  JOHN  L.  SHORT,  M.  D., 

In  the  Office  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress,  at  Washington,  D.  C. 

All  rights  reserved. 


r 

CONTRIBUTORS 


J.  N.  McCoBMiCK,  M.  D.,  L.  L.  D Bowling  Green,  Ky. 

Richard  H.  Taylor,  M.  D Hot  Springs,  Ark. 

Michael  Mason,  M.  D • Muskegon,  Mich. 

WiLHELMiNA  Short,  M.  D.,  D.  D.  S Oklahoma  City 

Walter  Hamilton,  M.  D .     .     Toronto,  Canada 

H.  W.  Fleck,  M.  D Bridgeport,  Conn. 

G.  A.  Norton.  M.  D Aurora,  111. 

W.  A.  Griffin,  M.  D Port  Huron,  M.^i]- 

B.  Moore,  M.  D.   .     .     , Esperance,  N.  Y. 

P.  C.  EcKELMAN,  M.  D Elkhart,  Ind. 

Henry  W.  Roby,  M   D Topeka,  Kan. 

W.  E.  H.  Morse,  M   D Algona,  Iowa 

W.  F.  Clark,  M.  D Kinkier,  Texas 

J.  B.  Cummins,  M.  D Cryer  Creek,  Texas 

T.  R.  Mason,  M.  D Sugar  Grove,  Ohio 

J.  D.  MiNARD,   M.  D Imlay  City,  Mich, 

U.  N.  Mellette,  M.  D De  Land,  Fla. 

W.  M.  Wheeler,  M.  D Gray  Summit,  Mo. 

F.  E.  SiEss,  M.  D Linecum,  La. 

C.  C.  Langsdorf,  M.  D New  York  City 

L.  MiLLiRON,  M.  D Flandeau,  S.  D. 

H.  D.  Moore,  M.  D New  Lexington,  Pa. 

D.  McDiarmid,  M.  D.,  C.  M Maxwell,  Canada 

M.  J.  Belden,  M.  D Marquoketa,  Iowa 

M.  M.  DooLEY,  M,  D Trinity  Mills,  Texas 

J.  L.  Short,  M.  D Oklahoma  City 


PREFACE. 

Since  a  preface  is  customary  when  publishing  a  book,  I 
shall  here  offer  my  excuse  for  thrusting  before  the  public 
what  may  seem  to  some  a  volume  of  idle  curiosity. 

The  object  of  this  publication  is  to  furnish  recreation 
and  amusement  for  the  mind,  and  at  the  same  time,  provide 
a  book  that  will  remove  every  particle  of  superstition,  it  an> 
exists,  from  those  who  read  it,  so  that  they  may  be  able  to 
divest  the  various  delusions  of  their  ghostly  mystery,  and 
fully  reveal  the  secret  of  such  deceptions;  bat,  "vhilj^  the 
author  believes  that  this  collection  of  stories  is  especially 
interesting  and  instructive  from  a  psychological  standpoint, 
it  remains  for  the  people  to  pronounce  the  benediction. 

Should  this  book  meet  the  favorable  consideration  of 
its  readers,  I  shall  compile  new  editions  from  time  to  time^ 
adding  such  interesting  stories  as  can  be  collected  during 
the  intervals. 

All  stories  contained  herein  have  been  accepted  with 
the  understanding  that  they  are  true  and  authentic,  but  not 
being  able  to  judge  in  every  instance,  the  author  cannot 
vouch  for  the  claims  of  others.  However,  I  am  exceedingly 
grateful  to  each  contributor  for  what  I  have  received  from 
him,  and  shall  be  thankful  for  other  interesting  stories  on 
the  same  terms ;  but  no  ghost  story  will  be  accepted  that 
does  not  at  its  conclusion,  or  before,  reveal  the  true  cause 
of  its  mysterious  and  delusive  character  J.  L.  S. 


X 


A   KENTUCKY   GHOST   STORY. 
BY  J.  N.  Mccormick,  m.  d.,  l.  l.  d.,  secretary  of  the  state  board 

OF  HEALTH  OF  KENTUCKY,  BOWLING  GREEN. 

A  thrifty  Kentucky  couple,  after  a  few  years  of  married 
life  as  tenant  farm/ers,  having  saved  up  a  snug  sum  for  the 
purpose,  decided  to  buy  a  home  for  themselves.  Patient 
search  was  made,  but  no  place  could  be  found  that  came 
up  to  their  long  cherished  ideals  for  a  home,  which  was  not 
far  beyond  their  reach  in  price.  Excursions  were  planned 
and  made  to  other  sections  of  the  county,  jointly  snd  singly, 
without  result.  The  husband  w^as  on  one  of  these  trips  alone 
one  day,  riding  down  a  fertile  valley,  when,  at  the  entrance 
to  one  of  the  nicest  of  the  farms,  he  was  attracted  by  a  notice 
posted  up :     "This  Farm  for  Sale  Very  Cheap." 

Riding  in  and  up  to  the  house  he  found  rich  land  and  ex- 
cellent improvements,  but  all  the  dwellings  were  vacant.  -V: 
ter  a  time  he  spied  the  owner  riding  across  the  fields',  and 
upon  inquiry  as  to  price  and  ternDs,  was  delighted  to  find 
that  he  could  pay  spot  cash  for  the  entire  place  and  have  a 
considerable  surplus  left.  He  proposed  to  trade  at  once,  but 
the  honest  owner  said :  "Before  we  close  the  trade  I  feel 
it  to  be  my  duty  to  tell  you  that  the  reason  that  I  am  priceing 
the  place  so  cheap  to  you  is  because  it  is  said  that  the  house 
is  'haunted.'  and  most  people  are  afraid  to  live  in  it."  As  it 
was  near  mid-day,  with  sunshine  everywhere,  when  no  one, 
not  even  darkies  and  children,  fear  ghosts,  our  friend  bravely 
replied,  "Pshaw!  I  am  not  afraid  of  ghosts;  in  fact,  I  have 
always  wanted  to  see  'a  hant,'  and  chase  him  off  the  earth, 
just  to  show  people  the  folly  of  such  things."  Noticing  a 
smile  of  doubtful  meaning  on  the  face  of  the  other  he  added 
philosophically,  "When  good  folks  die  they  don't  want  to 
come  back,  and  wdien  bad  ones  die  they  can't  get  back,  and 
to  my  belief  that  is  all  there  is  to  the  ghost  business.  Such 
tales  as  these  were  made  for  niggers  and  children." 


"All  right,"  said  ihe  owner,  highly  pleased  also;  "if  them's 
your  views,  the  place:  is  yours." 

In  a  short  time  they  set  out  together  for  the  county  seat, 
where  the  deed  was  made  out  and  recorded  and  the  transfer 
made  "  for  cash  m  hai  d  paid."  Before  they  parted  the 
former  owner  said  pleasantly,  "As  you  like  ghosts,  it  is 
fortunate  for  you  that  the  house  is  haunted,  as  you  have 
bought  the  cheapest  farm  that  was  ever  sold  in  this  country." 
Then  he  said,  in  a  serious  tone,  like  one  with  conviction,  "Re- 
member, the  ghost  always  comes  just  at  midnight." 

All  that  has  been  related  had  consumed  time,  and  the 
happy  owner  of  the  farm  did  not  reach  his  home  until  after 
nightfall.  His  enthusiasm  was  contagious,  and  over  a  warm 
and  substantial  supper,  which  ha-l  I  awaited  his  coming,  he 
told  his  faithfrj  spouse  of  their  good  fortune,  enlarging,  as 
lir'  .nds  will  do,  upon  the  value  of  the  land,  the  fine  im- 
provements, the  good  neighbors  and  everything,  and  es- 
pecially upon  the  fact  that,  "It  is  all  paid  for,  darling,  and 
we  have  ntoney  left." 

By  this  time  it  had  grown  quite  dark'  and  he  shifted  un- 
easily in  his  seat  "'.hen  his  wife  came  over  and  kissed  him 
and  said  proudly,  "Jim,  you  are  the  knowingest  and  smart- 
est man  alive.  Now  tell  me  how  you  worked  the  fellow  and 
got  it  all  so  cheap."  Instead  of  waiting  for  broad  daylight 
and  sunshine,  as  a  more  prudent  husband  might  have  done, 
he  was  overcome  by  her  importunities  and  evident  faith  in 
his  superior  judgment,  so  he  up  and  told  her  about  the  ghost, 
scoffing  at  all  such  things,  as  men  are  wont  to  do  under  such 
circumstances.  Then  there  was  a  scene.  The  woman  was 
almost  bereft  of  reason.  She  told  Jim  that  he  was  a  blasted 
idiot  and  a  good  many  other  things  like  that.  Between  sobs 
she  told  him  how  she  had  slaved  and  saved,  all  for  a  home, 
and  now  the  money  was  gone  and  they  had  nothing  to  show 
for  it  but  a  ghost-walk. 

After  long  pleading  for  peace  and  a  compromise,  it  was 
at  last  agreed,  along  in  the  wee  small  hours,  that  he  would 
take  the  few  things  actually  necessary  for  existence  and  move 
over  and  occupy  the  house  for  six  months,  reporting  progress 
from   time  to  time,   and  if  no  ghost  appeared   nor  sent   any 


word  by  that  time,  she  would  pay  him  a  visit' in  the  day  time 
and  listen  to  what  he  had  to  say  to  justify  his  conduct. 

With  the  daylight  his  courage  rose,  as  did  his  righteous  in- 
dignation against  his  wife,  and  he  soon  got  together  the  nec- 
essities for  a  bachelor's  home,  and  shortly  after  noon  was 
fairly  fixed  up  in  his  new  quarters.  He  was  pleasantly  sur- 
prised with  everything  about  the  place,  and  night  found  him 
in  good  spirits.  This  cheerfulness  began  to  dtsert  him 
towards  bed  time,  and  finding  that  he  could  not  sleep,  he 
decided  to  sit  up  in  front  of  the  fire  and  read  until  after 
midnight,  and  so  once  and  for  all  set  at  rest  the  foolish  fears 
of  the  former  owner  and  his  own  poor  deluded  wife,  agai  ".st 
whom  he  still  felt  a  little  bitter. 

The  time  passed  rather  heavil}',  but-  midnight  came  at 
last  and  just  as  the  clock  struck  twelve  a  tall  figure  all  in 
white  glided  noiselessly  in,  and  seat'ug  itself  on  the  opposite 
side  of  the  table,  bowed  politely  to  Oi'r  friend  and  ^  'd : 
"There  appears  to  be  two  of  us  here."  "Yes,"  replied  our 
hero,  as  he  rushed  out  of  the  house,  with  hair  on  end,  "but 
there  will  be  but  one  of  us  here  in  a  minute.'^  He  rushed 
wildly  up  the  road  for  a  mile  or  so  towards  his  now  fully 
forgiven  wife,  until  entirely  out  of  breath,  he  sat  down  on 
a  log  by  the  wayside  to  rest.  Jnst  as  he  did  so  the  ghost 
perched  itself  upon  the  log  beside  him,  and  bowmg  polilel) 
as  before,  said :  "We  have  had  quite  a  race."  "Yes,"  replied 
our  friend,  dashing  madly  on,  "and  we  are  going  to  have  an- 
other one  right  now." 

A  few  days  later  this  notice  was  posted  up  at  the  entrance 
to  the  place,.  "This  Farm  for  Sale  Dirt  Cheap."  "Inquire 
of  the  owner  at  his  former  home." 

Later  discoveries  revealed  the  fact  that  a  demented  woman 
was  in  the  habit  of  visiting  this  house  every  night  at  12 
o'clock,  in  response  to  what  she  fancied  was  a  command 
from  on  hieh. 


FOUR   GHOST    STORIES. 

15V    D.    McPIARMlD,    M.    D.,    C.    M..    MAXVILLE,    ONT.,    CANADA,    MEMBER 
BRITISH    MEDICAL    ASSOCIATION,    MEMBER    COLLEGE    PHYSI- 
CIANS AND  SURGEONS,   ONTARIO.   CANADA,   ASSISTANT 
CORONER  FOR  STORMONT,  DUNDAS  AND  GLENGARRY. 

COUNTY     OF     GLENGARRY,    ONTARIO.    CANADA, 

ONE    HUNDRED    YEARS   AGO. 

PROLOGUE. 

T'lis  pan  c*!:  onr  continent  was  occupied  at  the  beginning" 
of  the  century  just  ended,  principally  by  Scottish  High- 
landers, whose  descendants  are  still  to  be  found  on  the 
homes  made  by  their  pioneer  forefathers.  Many  of  them  are 
still  able  to  converse  in  the  language  spoken  by  their  fore- 
fathers, the  Ancient  Britons,  who  opposed  Caesar's  Legions 
during  the  invasion  of  Britain  over  2,000  years  ago.  The  walls 
of  the  house;  erected  by  these  settlers  in  the  wilds  of  Can- 
's dn  were  formed  of  unhewn  logs — at  the  end  of  each  dwell- 
ing house  was  found  a  large  open  fireplace  communicating 
with  a  large  stone  chimney — at  the  back  of  this  fireplace  was 
a  large  block  of  wood  called  the  backlog.  In  front  of  this, 
supported  by  massive,  rudely-shaped  andirons,  was  a  large 
pile  of  burning  firewood,  giving  out  light  and  heat,  before 
which  on  the  cold,  wintry  nights  the  members  of  the  family 
and  perhaps  visitors  sat,  and  while  watching  the  kaleidoscop- 
ical changing  forms  of  the  burning  coals,  were  entertained 
by  tales,  stories  and  folk  lore  which  excited  the  imagination 
of  young  and  old.  It  is  not  then  a  matter  of  surprise  that 
these  "Highlanders,"  belonging  to  a  race  second  to  none  in 
fearlessness  while  facing  real  dangers,  as  has  been  often 
proved  on  the  battle  field,  would  be  terrified  at  imaginary 
ones,  believed  to  be  due  to  occult  causes.  Happily,  today 
the  newspaper  and  good  cheap  literature  within  the  reach 
of  all,  has   taken   the   place   of  ghost   stories   and    legendary 


tales  which  delighted  and  frightened  our  forefathers.  The 
following  stories,  if  they  may  be  called  such,  are  true,  the 
writer  being  acquainted  with  the  descendants  of  the  parties 
referred   to. 


''SANDY"    AND    THE    GRAVEYARD    SPOOK. 
CHAPTER    I. 

There  lived  in  the  County  of  Glengarry  in  the  early  part 
of  the  first  quarter  of  the  last  century,  two  neighbors,  in 
nearly  every  respect  types  of  their  fellow  colonists  surround- 
ing them.  They  were  fond  of  playing  practical  jokes  on 
each  other  and  friends.  As  they  were,  from  their  environ- 
m',ent  and  early  education,  firm  believers  in  the  existence  of 
ghosts,  fairies  and  eerie  things,  they  were  easily  influenced 
by  any  unusual  thing  which  crossed  their  path  while  alone, 
at   night. 

It  was  customary  for  the  pioneers  to  do  their  own  car- 
penter work  and  shoemaking.  So  one,  afternoon  Sandy 
(Alexander)  called  on  his  neighbor  Donald,  whom  he  found 
busily  occupied  in  making  a  pair  of  shoes ;  the  latter  per- 
suaded the  former  to  stay  with  him  and  assist  him  in  finish- 
ing the  shoes,  laying  aside  a  pair  of  blankets  which  he 
bought    from    the    executor    of   a    deceased    neighbor   named 

C .     He  complied  with   Donald's   request,  and  did  not 

leave  Donald's  house  till  it  was  dark.     On  his  way  home  he 

had   to   pass    a   graveyard    in   which    C was    buried    a 

few  days  previously.  When  opposite  the  cemetery  he  was 
startled  to  hear  a  wailing  noise  issuing  from  the  graveyard, 

and  at  last  heard  that  the  speaker  was  C ,  the  owner 

of  the  blankets  he  had  in  his  possession,  and  begging  him  to 

leave   them    as   he,   C ,  was   cold,  very   cold.     Without 

a  moment's  hesitation  he  flung  the  blankets  in  the  direction 
of  the  graveyard,  at  the  same  time  exclaiming,  "There 
are  your  blankets,  take  them  ;"  at  the  same  time  taking  to 
his  heels,  and  did  not  stop  running  till  he  reached  his  own 
house. 

As  soon  as  he  left  Donald's  house,  Donald  took  a  short 
cut  to  the  graveyard,  and  was  in  time  to  personate  the  de- 


funct  C .     Donald  carried  Sandy's  blankets  home,  and 

waited  patiently  for  a  long  time  to  hear  the  latter's  account 

of  his  int-erview  with  C 's  ghost.     At  last  he  told  the 

story  and  returned  the  blankets.     The  next  incident  will  tell 
how  Sandy  repaid  Donald. 


DONALD  AND 


THE  SPEAKING 
CHAPTER  n. 


SHEEP'S    HEAD. 


A  few  5'"ears  after  the  oc- 
currence of  the  graveyard 
incident,  Donald  had  erect- 
ed a  primitive  house  on  a 
bush  farm  which  he  bought 
about  six  miles  from  his 
old  home.  His  friend  Sandy 
decided  to  pay  him  a  visit, 
as  he  understood  that  Donald  was  preparing  to  move 
his  family  to  their  new  home.  It  was  as  dark 
as  it  would  be  when  Sandy  reached  Donald's  new 
house.  He  could  see  Donald  sitting  before  the  huge 
fire  he  had,  busily  making  an  axe  handle.  The  spaces 
between  the  logs  forming  the  walls  had  not  yet  been 
filled  up  with  plaster,  so  it  was  not  difficult  to  see  the  whole 
of  the  interior  of  the  house.  At  the  end  of  the  house,  a 
place  had  been  left  for  a  window,  and  over  this  was  placed 
a  piece  of  cloth.  Sandy  could  see  outside  by  moonlight  that 
Donald  had  butchered  a  sheep,  the  head  of  which  was  lying 
on  a  stump.  .Not  far  from  this,  Sandy  found  Donald's  fowl- 
ing piece,  which  he  had  taken  apart — the  breech  block  was 
detatched  from  the  barrel  and  the  latter  was  leaning  against 
a  tree.  Sandy  saw  at  a  glance  that  the  time  had  now  come 
when  he  could  get  even  with  Donald,  so  he  decided  not  to 
enter  Donald's  house  that  night.  Instead  of  that  he  took  the 
gun  barrel  and  shoved  it  into  the  sheep's  head,  so  that  the 
muzzle  rested  in  the  mouth.  Approaching  the  curtcfmed 
window  he  cautiously  shoved  the  sheep's  head  against  the 
curtain  and  applied  his  mouth  to  the  other  end  of  the  gun 
barrel.      Donald,   hearing   a    noise   at    the   end    of   his   house. 


lifted  his  head,  and  was  amazed  to  see  the  curtain  slowly- 
moving,  and  at  last  the  well  known  sheep's  head  appearing 
in  the  room.  But  his  surprise  may  be  imlagined  when  he 
heard  the  sheep  speak  the  following  words : 

"Donald !  Donald !  You  will  die  on  Friday  and  be  buried 
on  Saturday." 

Poor  Donald  fell  in  a  heap  and  passed  a  sleepless  night. 
Sandy  replaced  the  head  and  gun  barrel  as  he  found  them 
and  quietly  returned  home.  When  daylight  came,  poor 
Donald  managed  to  get  to  his  old  home,  threw  himself  on 
the  bed,  bewailing  his  fate,  and  refused  to  be  comforted. 
His  reply  was,  "Did  not  the  poor  sheep  tell  me  I  would 
be  dead  on  Friday?"  At  last  the  dreaded  Friday  came,  and 
Donald,  surrounded  by  his  family  and  friends,  awaited  the 
death  sentence  which  did  not  come.  He  did  not  believe  the 
sheep  lied  till  he  was  sure  it  was  past  midnight.  Sandy 
did  not  forget  to  tell  how  he  compelled  the  head  to  speak 
good  Gaelic  by  means  of  the  gun  barrel. 


THE    DEVIL    DOES    NOT    UNDERSTAND    GAELIC. 

About  80  years  ago,  there  lived  in  the  named  county 
a  physician  who  was  a  prominent  person  in  those  days.  He 
was  a  skillful  physician  and  a  good  surgeon,  and  very  fond 
of  a  practical  joke.  During  the  Christmas  holidays  he  would 
have  around  him  a  select  circle  of  friends,  well  versed  in 
the  folk  lore  of  his  native  Scottish  Highlands,  and  able  to 
sing  Ossian's  poems  in  the  original,  as  well  as  many  Gaelic 
songs.  .  On  a  particular  frosty  night  in  the  latter  part  of 
December,  returning  from  the  town  of  Cornwall,  he  decided 
to  have  his  customary  jollification,  and  this  could  not  be  had 
without  the  presence  of  a  certain  party  whose  Christian 
name  was  Donald.  No  better  story  teller  or  ballad  singer 
was  to  be  had.  Donald  sometimes  adorned  his  ghost  stories 
with  accounts  which  in  those  credulous  days  were  often 
not  believed,  but  the  doubters  were  often  silenced  by  Don- 
ald's prayer,  "That  if  what  he  had  told  them  was  not  the 
truth,  the  whole  truth  and  nothing  but  the  truth,  then  the 
devil   might   fly   away  with   him." 


The  only  difficulty  the  doctor  had  to  overcome  in  getting 
Donald  was  the  consent  of  Mary,  Donald's  wife — as  the 
doctor's  table  was  supplied  with  the  best  rum  that  Jamaica 
could  produce ;  this  was  the  chief  attraction  for  Donald,  and 
cause    of   Mary's    opposition. 

The  winter  roads  in  those  days  were  tortuous  and  marked 
by  "blazed"  trees — only  a  few  leading  roads  existed  in  the 
country.  The  doctor,  however,  was  familiar  with  every 
"blazed"  path  found  in  his  section  of  the  country.  One  of 
these  paths  passed  near  Donald's  shanty  and  was  the  one 
the  doctor  was  taking  to  Williamstown,  where  he  resided. 
It  was  about  midnight  when  he  was  passing  Donald's  mod- 
est home,  stopping  his  horse  he  began  calling  Donald  in  a 
disguised  voice,  wishing  to  know  the  road  to  his  home. 
Donald  appeared  at  the  door  partially  dressed,  reached  the 
doctor's  sleigh,  saw  that  large  brown  jug,  got  in  with  the 
doctor  and,  covered  with  the  sleigh  robes,  reached  the  vil- 
lage in  a  short  time,  and  was  soon  dressed  in  some  of  the 
doctor's  wearing  apparel. 

When  her  husband  at  once  did  not  return  to  the  house, 
and  no  answer  to  her  loud  calling,  Mary  went  to  the  neigh- 
bors and  told  her  tale.  All  were  surprised  at  the  mysterious 
disappearance  and  could  not  account  for  it.  But  an  old 
man  who  often  cautioned  Donald  against  the  use  of  his 
prayer,  as  it  was  very  likely  the  devil  would  some  day  'take 
him  at  his  word  and  fly  away  with  hint,  now  told  poor 
Mary  that  she  need  never  again  expect  to  see  Donald,  that 
he  was  satisfied  that  no  other  than  Satan  himself  came  last 
night  and  carried  Donald  ofif  bodily.  This  did  not  trouble 
Mary  in  the  least,  she  simply  said  that  was  impossible  as  the 
man  spoke  to  him  in  Gaelic,  which  they  all  knew  the  devil 
did  not  understand,  and  that  all  true  Scottish  Highlanders 
fully  believed  this  to  be  a  fact. 

Three  days  after  this  Donald  was  found  at  the   doctor's. 


HOW    A    ROVING    PIG    ACTED    THE    GHOST. 

There   lived   in   the   named   county,   not   long   ago,   a   very 
worthy  man,  and  a  good  repository  of  capital  stories,  which 


he  could  tell  by  the   hour,  and  keep  up   the  unflagging-  in- 
terest of  his  auditors  for  a  long  time. 

On  a  particular  winter's  night  in  which  there  was  a  bril- 
liant display  of  the  "Northern  Lights,"  and  shooting  stars, 
the  ground  was  covered  with  a  good  layer  of  crisp  snow, 
which,  crunched  under  the  feet  while  walking  over  it,  a 
friend  spent  the  evening  with  our  hero,  and  the  conversa- 
tion between  the  host  and  his  guest  was  kept  up  till  mid- 
night. The  road  between  the  two  houses,  which  were 
about  two  miles  apart,  passed  by  a  church  situated  in  the 
middle  of  a  large  graveyard.  A  good  many  people  passing  a 
graveyard  at  night  do  so  with  mingled  feelings  of  awe  and 
fear.  Our  hero  belonged  to  this  class.  Whilst  opposite  the 
church  (which  was  at  least  half  a  mile  from  any  dwelling), 
he  was  startled  to  hear  a  peculiar  husky,  prolonged  sound 
coming  from  the  graveyard,  and  looking  in  the  direction 
from  which  it  came  was  surprised  to  see,  in  the  imperfect 
light,  the  form  of  an  old  woman  in  white  coming  on  a  trot 
towards  the  highway.  One  glance  at  the  apparition  was 
enough  to  put  mettle  in  his  heels.  He  had  no  time  to  stop, 
as  he  could  hear  the  prolonged  gutteral  sound  repeated  at 
intervals  and  gaining  on  him.  After  running  about  half  a 
mile,  a  sleigh  in  charge  of  a  neighbor  met  him.  He  fell  and 
remained  in  an  unconscious  .condition  for  a  short  tim€.  On 
coming  to  his  senses,  the  ghost  was  there  in  the  form  of  a 
large  white  pig,  belonging  to  his  late  host. 


MY  GHOSTLY  EXPERIENCE. 

BY  M.  J.  BBLDEN,  M.  D.,  MARQUOKETA,  IOWA. 

I  have  lived  up  to  the  allotted  age  of  man,  and  forty- 
nine  years  of  that  time  I  have  practiced  the  so-called  healing 
art,  and  during  my  time  I  have  heard  and  read  many  myster- 
ious things.  I  read  of  an  all-wise,  powerful,  and  just  God ; 
and  I  am  satisfied  that  such  a  being  exists,  for  the  time  was 
when  I  did  not  exist,  and  then  I  was,  and  now  I  am.     I  have 


also  read  of  a  devil — a  cloven-footed,  dishonest  devil,  creat- 
ed by  the  same  God,  but  have  never  seen  one.  I  have  met 
those  who  told  me  there  is  such  a  being,  for  they  had  seen 
him.  I  also  am  told  there  are  disembodied  spirits  hovering 
above  and  around  us  human  beings,  and  I  have  also  heard 
there  were  truly  such  things  as  "ghosts".  I  hear  of  them  as 
being  seen  almost  every  day,  and  often  see  illustrations  of 
them  in  newspapers ;  and  from  the  fact  that,  notwithstand- 
ing the  three  score  and  ten  years  I  have  lived,  I  am  still  in 
the  pursuit  of  more  '^light"  and  knowledge  in  regard  to 
spirits,  and  ghosts  in  particular;  and  hoping  I  may  learn 
something  more  about  them,  I  write  of  my  experience,  think- 
ing that  perhaps  it  may  induce  others  to  do  the  same. 

Years  ago,  when  I  was  a  young  man  and  a  student,  a  mate 
and  friend  of  mine  had  occasion  to  go  into  the  country  in 
a  rural  district  in  the  sate  of  New  York.  We  were  detained 
at  a  gathering  where  we  were  until  the  middle  of  the  night, 
at  which  time  we  started  for  home,  and  at  a  rather  lonely 
point  on  the  road  which  we  traveled,  we  had  to  pass  a 
country  grave  yard  (the  place  where  ghosts  are  generally 
seen).  I  happened  to  look  into  the  yard,  and  for  the  first 
and  only  time  in  my  life,  I  saw  a  ghost,  I  could  see 
it  perfectly  plain.  The  sky  was  clear,  the  moon  was 
full,  and  it  was  nearly  as  light  as  day.  I  called  my  comrade's 
attention  to  it.  I  was  willing  to  testify  at  the  tim(e,  that  a 
ghost  was  there,  and  I  had  a  witness  with  me — a  sober, 
candid,  intelligent  man — who  also  saw  the  apparition.  How 
long  we  gazed  at  the  ghostly  object  I  know  not.  At  length 
my  comrade  spoke.  He  suggested  that  we  go  and  alarm  the 
neighbors  in  the  vicinity  and  bring  them  forth  to  view  the 
ghostly  sight.  I  told  him^  no !  That  would  not  do  for  two 
medical  students !  That  we  must  climb  the  fence  and  at- 
tack its  majesty  first,  and  if  we  were  vanquished,  we  would 
try  and  give  the  alarm  afterwards.  I  climbed  the  fence  and 
started  towards  it,  my  comrade  following.  The  ghost  was 
about  six  rods  from  the  road,  and  when  I  had  advanced 
about  two  rods,  the  ghost  looked  more  awful  to  me.  I  will 
not  make  an  attempt  to  describe  how  it  appeared  to  me  at 
that  time.  I  halted  and  looked  for  my  friend  and  pretended 
to   scold   him   for  not   coming   on    faster.     After   halting   to 

lo 


speak  to  my  comrade  and  looking  around  again.  I  saw  it 
move ;  it  first  appearing  the  size  of  an  ordinary  person,  then 
becoming-  about  fourteen  feet  high.  Just  reflect  one 
moment — in  a  country  grave  yard,  a  ghost  standing  on  the 
middle  of  a  newly  made  grave,  wrapped  in  a  winding  sheet 
from'  the  crown  of  head  to  the  feet,  and  at  twelve  o'clock  at 
night !  I  went  a  little  nearer,  and,  to  be  truthful,  the  nearer 
I  got  to  the  ghost,  the  farther  from  it  I  wished  that  I  were; 
but  so  far  I  had  not  been  hurt,  so  I  kept  slowly  moving 
nearer  to  her.  I  say  her  from  the  fact  that  ghosts  are  gen- 
erally said  to  be  of  the  feminine  gender.  I  kept  moving  a 
little  nearer  until  I  was  within  about  six  feet  of  her,  when 
I  halted  again.  I  did  not  know  how  to  proceed.  I  did  not 
feel  like  going  up  and  embracing  her  ghostship.  I  did  not 
want  to  shout  for  help  or  run.  I  almost  wished  I  had  talien 
my  friend's  advice  and  called  the  neighbors;  but  alas!  it 
was  too  late  for  regrets,  for  just  as  I  began  to  feel  every  in- 
dividual hair  upon  my  head  raise,  she  spoke !  and  behold, 
it  was  no  ghost,  but  a  live  woman,  and  then  the  "vail"  was 
removed,  and  the  woman  glared  in  plain  view.  Although 
it  was  in  the  balmy  night,  she  did  not  talk  to  me  like  the 
lady  Eve  talked  to  Adam  in  the  Garden  of  Eden,  for  -she 
had  no  forbidden  fruit  to  tempt  me  to  eat ;  but  in  a  rather 
loud  tone  of  voice  said :  "'What  in  the  name  of  God  are 
you  watching  me  for?"  Then  I  knew  who  and  what  she 
was,  for  I  recognized  the  voice  as  that  of  a  poor  crazy  creat- 
ure living  in  the  neighborhood,  who  was  in  the  habit  of 
wandering  abroad  whenever  she  could  evade  the  vigilence  of 
her  friends.     And  so  my  ghost  was  accounted  for. 

After  a  little  persuasion,  we  got  her  to  start  for  home, 
which  happened  to  be  on  our  road.  We  had  gone  but  a 
short  distance  when  we  met  her  friends,  who  were  out  look- 
ing for  her,  having  missed  her  from  her  bed. 

After  we  left  the  ghost  I  asked  my  friend  for  his  opinion 
of  our  experience,  and  if  he  was  scared.  He  quietly  in- 
formed me  he  was  not  frightened  at  all.  I  then  asked  him 
why  he  walked  so  slow  when  we  were  going  to  confrofit 
the  ghost.  He  said  "Oh !  I  was  not  afraid,  but  had  eaten  so 
many  apples  at  the  party  that  I  was  fearing  an  attack  of 
cholera   morbus."     It  did   not  effect  me  that  way,  however, 


but  a  portion  of  the  time  I  felt  as  though  my  hair  was  try- 
ing to  raise  my  hat  from  my  head ;  perhaps  to  cool  my  fev- 
ered brain.  I  have  looked  for  ghosts  many  times  since  that 
night,  but  have  failed  to  find  another. 


A  GHOSTLY  CAT. 

BY  L.  L.  DOOLFA'.  M.  D..  TRINITY  MILLS,  TEXAS. 


ity  avoided  the 
not  be  hired  to 
young     man     who 


place      in 
go     near 


Years  ago,  there  stood 
a  vacant  house,  in  an  old 
deserted  field,  which  was 
said  to  be  haunted.  Many 
curious  things  had  been 
reported  concerning  this 
lonesome  spot,  and  the 
women  and  children,  and 
some  men  of  the  commun- 
the  daytime,  and  could 
it     after     dark.       A     certain 


denied  that  such  a  thing  as  a  ghost 
existed,  volunteered  to  go  and  sleep  in  this  haunted 
house  for  $io.  An  old  man  ofifered  him  the  money, 
provided  he  would  remain  all  night,  and  the  young  man 
accepted.  A  dark,  cold  and  rainy  night  was  selected,  and 
the  brave  young  man  who  had  never  experienced  the  least 
feeling  of  superstition,  proceeded  to  perform  his  task,  saying 
that  it  was  an  easy  way  to  make  money.  He  entered  the 
old  house  that  had  not  been  occupied  by  a  human  being  for 
years,  built  a  fire  in  the  old  fire  place,  warmed  himself,  and 
then  reclined  at  ease  on  a  cot  which  he  had  carried  along 
with  him.  Soon  he  noticed  a  very  large  black  cat  appear 
before  the  fire,  thoroughly  soaked  with  water.  The  cat 
seated  himself  on  the  hearth  in  front  of  the  fire  and  began 
the  task  of  drying  his  hair  by  the  licking  process.  Occas- 
ionally the  cat  would  look  back  over  his  shoulder  at  t^'^ 
young  man  on  the  cot.     The  young  man  did  not  object  to 


his  companion,  but  rather  enjoyed  looking  at  him,  till  the 
cat  gave  one  long,  straight  look  at  the  young  man,  and 
seemed  to  say,  "It  is  a  damp,  cold  night!"  The  young  man 
kept  still,  but  thought  it  strange  that  the  cat  should  speak 
so  plainly.  The  cat,  after  licking  himself  a  few  times,  again 
looked  straight  at  the  young  man,  and  said,  "You  are  a 
brave  young  man !"  This  brought  the  young  man  to  a  sit- 
ting posture,  and  he  sat  on  the  edge  of  his  cot  gazing  at  this 
speaking  cat,  and  wondering  what  would  be  the  best  thing 
to  'do  under  the  circumstances.  The  cat  gave  a  few  more 
swipes  at  his  wet  coat,  and  then  with  a  fierce  and  wild  gaze 
at  the  young  man,  said,  ''There  is  no  one  here  but  you  and 
I!"  This  was  too  much  for  the  young  man.  At  one  jump 
he  reached  the  door,  saying,  "Yes  and  there  will  be  no  one 
but  you  in  a  few  minutes."  The  young  man  lost  no  time  in 
reaching  the  nearest  house,  where  he,  in  an  excited  manner, 
gave  all  the  details  of  his  ghostly  experience.  The  next  day 
he  was  mortified  to  learn  that  the  old  man  who  hired  him 
to  stay  in  the  house  was  a  ventriloquist,  and  had  soaked  the 
cat  in  water  and  slipped  him  through  a  crack  in  the  house, 
ana,  watching  till  the  cat  looked  at  the  young  man,  spoke 
for  the  cat,  throwing  his  voice,  so  that  it  appeared  as  though 
the  cat  was  speaking. 


AN   ORIGINAL   GHOST   STORY. 

BY    RICHARD    H.    TAYLOR,    M.    D..    HOT    SPRINGS,    ARK. 

Dear  Doctor — Your  call 
for  authentic  ghost  ex- 
perience revives  an  abso- 
lutely true  circumstance  of 
thirty  odd  years  ago,  which 
at  the  time  was  first  har- 
rowing, then  laughable,  and 
may  be  now  amusing  to 
some  of  your  readers. 
I  was  a  Confederate  surgeon  on  detailed  duty  at  Colum- 
bia, South   Carolina,  at  the  time  of  the  destruction  of  that 


13 


beautiful  city  by  Sherman's  army.  A  few  weeks  afterward 
I  started  on  foot,  the  invading  force  having  left  no  other 
means  of  travel,  for  Wangeburg  Court  House,  about  fifty 
miles  distant.  I  selected  the  broad  line  of  Sherman's  de- 
vastation as  possibly  the  safest  from  Jayhawkers  and  other 
dangers.  I  had  walked  all  day  through  that  most  grewsome 
pathway,  inhaling  foul  contamination  from  decomposing  an- 
imal matter  and  seeing  upon  numbers  of  trees  ■  dead  and 
mangled  bodies  of  both  the  Blue  and  the  Gray.  So,  my  dear 
doctor,  you  see  my  mind  was  well  prepared  for  the  uncanny 
and  tempestuous  night  soon  to  follow.  Dark  and  angry 
clouds  rapidly  gathered  on  the  brow  of  night,  the  windows 
of  heaven  appeared  to  suddenly  open,  and  relentless  Jupiter 
Pluvialia  soon  deluged  the  earth  in  water.  Fortunately  an 
old  deserted  church  stood  near  by,  and  in  Avhich  I  sought 
friendly  shelter.  By  this  time  tangible  darkness  embraced 
the  world.  I  continuously  felt  my  way  until  I  .found  a  bench 
and  then  with  a  haversack  for  a  pillow  I  hoped  to  quietly 
spend  the  night.  All  of  a  sudden  the  room  was  briefly  but 
brilliantly  lighted  by  electricity,  and  I  saw,  or  thought  I 
saw,  a  man  with  white  raiment  and  flowing  beard,  stand- 
ing in  the  rickety  pulpit,  with  outstretched  arms.  A 
moment  later  another  glare  enabled  me  to  verify  my  exper- 
ience, only  the  head  now  had  a  threatening  movement.  I 
confess  I  was  well  frightened,  and  for  a  time  lost  all  resist- 
ance. I  ran  to  the  door.  There  I  stopped  and  thought, 
Can  I,  a  soldier,  be  running  from  a  ghost?  I,  who  had  for 
four  years  carried  my  life  in  my  hands,  ready  at  any  time  to 
surrender.  I,  who  had  so  often  mingled  Avith  death,  was 
actually  afraid  of  an  unarmed  and  harmless  ghost.  Pistol 
in  hand,  I  went  back,  advanced  to  the  steps  of  the  pulpit, 
and  demanded  who  or  what  was  there.  No  answer  coming, 
I  declared  my  solemn  intention  of  shooting  on  the  coimt  of 
three.  Just  as  T  reached  two,  however,  I  received  an  awful 
blow  as  if  from  a  sledge  hammer.  The  stars  suddenly 
seemed  to  forget  their  obscurity,  for  I  must  have  seen  a 
hundred.  The  blow  turned  me  heels  over  head  into  the 
amen  corner,  where  I  lay  for  some  time  in  physical 
torture.  After  a  while  I  distinctly  heard  receding  footsteps, 
when   another   flash   of  lightning   enabled   nile   to   distinguish 

14 


my  frightful  ghost  as  an  interrupted  and  offended  billy  goat, 
like  myself,  seeking  protection  from  the  storm.  Peace  was 
speedily  restored.  His  goatship  returned  to  straw  and  I  to 
dream  of  distant  home. 


A  GHOST  STORY  THAT  IS  TRUE. 

BY    DR.    MICHAEL    MASON,    MUSKEGON,    MICH. 

In  the  fall  of  1865,  I  was 
called  to  Pine  Grove  Hill. 
V^an  Buren  county,  Mich- 
igan, to  act  as  physician 
and  surgeon  for  sixteen 
saw  mills  located  in  that 
vicinity,  having  just  com- 
pleted my  services  in  that 
capacity  in  the  war  of  1861. 
The  country  was  new,  but  in  places  was  thickly  settled  with 
an  active  lumber  business,  furnishing  employment  for  at  least 
two  thousand  men  and  others.  Everything  was  humming;  in 
activity,  and  everybody  was  expecting  my  advent  to  the 
mill   district. 

I  located  over  the  mill  store  and  postoffice.  near  the 
Brandywine  Lake,  a  beautiful  sheet  of  water  reddened  by 
Tamarack  surrounding  its  margin.  I  had  just  set  up  for  ac- 
tive duty,  among  strange  people  to  my  acquaintance,  by 
September  20,  1865,  which  was  a  day  portentious  of  an 
equinoxial  storm,  with  rain.  It  was  9  o'clock,  p.  m.,  that  I 
was  greeted  by  hurried  steps  and  a  vigorous  rap  at  my  of- 
fice door.  "I  wish  to  see  Dr.  Mason,  my  mother  is  very 
sick  and  wants  him  now."  I  stepped  in  and  told  him  that 
I  was  Dr.  Mason,  and  asked  his  name  and  the  residence  of 
his  mother.  He  replied  that  his  name  was  John  Sisson.  and 
that  he  lived  at  home  with  his  father  and  mother  a  mile  west 
of  Gobies'  grave  yard  in  a  log  house  on  the  south  side  of 
the  road  on  the  hill.     "Will  you   go?"  he  asked.     I  replied 


15 


in  the  affirmative  and  then  he  lit  out  like  a  deer  for  home. 
In  twenty  minutes  my  horse  was  at  the  door  in  waiting,  I  ad- 
justed my  heavy  saddlebags,  mounted  and  cantered  away 
to  the  westward,  as  directed,  over  an  untrodden  road  by 
me.  The  murky  clouds  excluded  the  sky,  and  darkness  like 
a  pall  was  my  surrounding,  as  flash  after  flash  of  lightning 
gave  sight  to  my  guidance  to  the  road  that  led  through  for- 
ests, and  now  and  then  to  the  open. 

The  graveyard  camje  in  sight  by  the  aid  of  another  flash, 
accompanied  by  a  terrible  peal  of  thunder  just  over  my  head 
that  made  my  artillery  horse  tremble  like  a  leaf,  and  I  must 
say  I  was  nearly  as  much  frightened  as  was  my  horse,  but 
we  sped  away  and  soon  brought  up  at  the  log  house  on  the 
knoll,  where  my  prospective  patient  resided.  I  hastened  in. 
"Mrs.  Sisson,  I  believe?''  "Yes,  Doctor,  I  am  in  terrible  ag- 
only  with  bilious  colic  and  dysentery."  I  gave  her  ano- 
dynes, and  hastened  away  to  reach  home  before  I  would  en- 
counter a  heavy  rain  storm  that  was  expressed  by  the  deep- 
ening clouds  and  peals  of  thunder.  I  hastily  mounted  and 
was  flying  homeward,  and  as  I  neared  the  cemetery,  three  or 
four  quivering  flashes  revealed  the  graveyard  at  my  left 
and  nearly  opposite  me,  I  saw  a  body  dressed  in  a  black 
mantle  rise  our  of  the  earth  and  stand  still,  where  it  was 
vacant  a  half  minute  before. 

I  was  not  frightened,  but  attributed  this  to  abberation  of 
vision  from  the  lightening's  fiery  wing.  I,  at  the  same  time, 
discovered  that  the  fine  saddle  blanket  was  nearly  out  from 
under  my  McClellen  saddle,  that  necessitated  me  to  dis- 
mount and  readjust  it  with  tighter  girth.  At  the  same  moment 
another  flash,  with  a  deafening  peal  of  thunder  and  rain 
pouring  down  upon  me  with  a  driving  wind,  I  heard  a  flut- 
ter nearby,  as  heavy  sheets  on  a  clothes  line.  Near  my  left 
I  saw  on  the  fence  the  figure  that  rose  out  of  the  ground 
two  or  three  miinutes  before,  with  a  dark  mantle  waving  in 
the  wind.  I  did  not  take  this  as  optical  illusion,  but  a  real 
object — ghost,  a  robber,  perhaps.  All  the  hideous  stories 
told  me  in  childhood  by  my  German  mother  came  before  me 
like  a  dream.  My  horse  shied  to  one  side,  as  far  as  long 
bridle  rein  would  admit,  that  was  on  my  arm  at  my  elbow 
At   that   moment    T   was   seized   by  the   collar   of  my   Prince 

i6 


Albert,  and  the  skirt,  by  the  figure  from  the  grave  yard. 
With  terrible  force,  my  coat  was  torn  from  the  cleft  of  the 
skirt  to  the  collar  at  one  jerk.  Here  my  instinctive  nature 
began  to  assert  its  prerogative.  I  seized  the  figure  with  a 
bull-dog  grasp  by  the  neck,  and  at  the  same  time  my  horse 
maae  a  lee-lvirch  and  I  and  the  figure  came  to  anchor  in  soft, 
holding  ground,  and  both  qf  us  were  dragged  quite  across 
the  road  by  the  horse ;  a  part  of  the  time  I  was  under,  and 
at  other  times  I  was  on  top.  Not  a  word  was  uttered ;  no 
noise  but  thunder,  rain,  and  my  snorting  equine.  As  my 
figure  was  at  that  moment  in  .a  quiescent  state,  I  hastily 
mounted  and  cantered  away. 

My  silk  tile  was  jammed  down  to  my  ears  and  soft  as  a 
dish  rag;  my  coat  skirts  were  slopping  my  horse  right  and 
left  on  his  ears;  my  saddlebags  at  every  jump  pounding 
my  hoxse  in  the  flanks,  as  he  was  trying  to  dissipate  space  to 
his  full  capacity.  We  soon  reached  home.  It  was  eleven 
at  night ;  wife  had  retired.  I  rapped  vigorously  at  the  door ; 
she  unlocked  and  opened  it.  She  screamed  and  did  her  levej 
best  to  lock  me  out.  I  had  been  too  full  for  utterance,  but 
at  this  juncture,  like  Baalam's  ass,  I  opened  my  mouth  and 
spake:  "My  dear  wife,  be  not  afraid;  it  is  I,  your  loving 
husband — what  is  left  of  him."  She  turned  up  the  light,  and 
on  seeing  my  plight  she  screamed  out:  *'My  God!  What  is 
the  matter?"  Now,  I  was  in  a  quandary  what  to  reply,  as 
secretiveness  was  a  ruling  trait  with  me;  and  a  non-believer 
in  ghosts,  I  was  not  going  to  commit  mysel-f  to  that  belief 
then.  "Do  tell  how  you  got  into  this  terrible  condition."  My 
mother-wit  began  to  radiate,  and  I  told  her  that  I  was  out  in 
all  this  dreadful  equinoxial  storm,  and  that  a  bolt  of  lighten- 
ing came  down,  struck  my  tile  and  bounded  down  my  back 
and  tore  my  coat,  and  that  I  fell  to  the  earth  in  coma,  and 
that  my  horse  must  have  drawn  me  quite  a  dis- 
tance through  the  mud  and  water.  She  exclaimed: 
"My  God !  You  are  lucky  that  you  and  your  horse 
both  were  not  killed.  Why,  of  all  the  freaks  of  light- 
ning, I  never  heard  of  such  a  miraculous  escape."  T  told 
her  fools  are  always  lucky.  "My  gracious !  You  don't  call 
yourself  a  fool,  do  you?"  "Yes,  I  do.'"  was  the  reply.  She 
asked  for  mv  reasons  for  the  remark.     I  told  her  it  was  an 

17 


old  tradition  among  all  peoples  that  if  there  :s  a  fool  in  the 
family,  that  he  either  wants  to  preach  or  practice  medicine, 
and  the  old  woman  said:  "Vox  Populi  Vox  Deiest."  She  re- 
plied :  "Here,  that  is  enough ;  here  are  your  clothes ;  there 
is  a  tub  of  warm  water;  get  ready  for  bed."  And  added: 
"Perhaps  you  would  like  a  lunch  before  retiring?"  I  said: 
''No,  I  am  too  full  to  eat;  trouble  is  food,  or  at  least  jt  ar- 
rests appetite."  I  enjoined  my  wife  to  keep  mute,  and  to 
not  mention  any  part  of  this  episode  in  my  first  call,  as  it 
would  do  me  no  good. 

Before  leaving  Mrs.  Sisson,  my  first  patient  in  Van  Buren 
county,  I  requested  Mr.  Sisson  to  report  to  me  at  4  o'clock 
next  day  in  the  afternoon.  Mr.  John  Sisson  materialized  on 
time,  said  his  mother  was  much  improved,  and  had  medicine 
enough  to  carry  her  through;  if  not,  he  would  report.  He 
paid  my  bill,  with  thanks,  then  asked  me  if  I  had  heard  the 
news  about  Mrs.  Bell,  who  had  lost  her  husband  a  week 
ago.  I  replied  that  I  had  not.  He  then  told  me  that 
Mr.  Bell  had  been  buried  in  the  Goble  cemetery,  and 
that  Mrs.  Bell,  his  wife,  had  gone  raving  crazy  over  it  and 
had  escaped  from  home  in  the  storm,  unbeknown  to  her 
folks,  and  was  found  in  the  morning  a  mile  west  from  the 
graveyard,  wandering  about,  all  covered  with  mud  and  wet 
to  the  skin  and  quivering  with  cold,  at  nine  o'clock  that 
morning.  On  being  found,  she  said  she  owed  her  husband 
a  good,  old-fashioned  whipping,  and  that  she  dug  him  up 
and  gave  him  a  good  trouncing  in  the  road,  and  a  fiery  horse 
materialized  and  her  husband,  in  a  jiffy,  flew  off  with  the 
horse  in  the  air — that  his  wings  were  black  and  six  feet 
long,  and  that  he  and  the  horse  entered  a  b'g  cloud  and 
was  gone  out  of  sight.  So,  a  committee  was  sent  to  Goble's 
cemetery  to  see  if  she  had  been  there  in  that  rainy,  stormy 
night.  They  found  the  earth  thrown  out  of  the  grave  to 
the  box  containing  the  casket,  and  in  the  road  they  found 
signs  of  a  serious  struggle.  They  also  found  horse  tracks 
all  around,  and  a  man's  tracks,  and  Mrs.  Bell's  tracks,  and 
a  man's  necktie  and  collar  in   the  mud. 

My  wife,  hearing  Mr.  Sisson's  recital  of  news,  kept  her 
peace  till  after  Mr.  Sisson's  departure.  Then  she  got  up 
and    overliauled    my    dirty,    muddy    clothing.      No    collar    or 

18 


necktie  to  be  found  in  the  lot.  She  turned  and  took  her 
seat  near  me,  and  with  a  quivering  lip  she  began  to  speak 
of  last  night's  experience  in  the  storm  at  the  cemetery  in 
this  manner,  to-wit :  "My  dear,  I  did  not  find  your  collar 
rior  necktie  among  your  clothes  taken  off  last  night,  and 
not  being  here,  and  the  same  being  found  in  the  road  near 
the  graveyard ;  horse  tracks,  man's  tracks  and  woman's 
tracks  in  great  profusion,  creates  in  me  a  wonderment  that 
I  would  like  to  have  explained.  I,  at  least,  think  your 
lightning  story  not  true,  or  at  best  mixed."  I  acknowledged 
that  she  was  correct;  that  I  was  so  mixed  up  when  I  got 
home  that  it  was  impossible  to  tell  anything  just  as  it  might 
have  been,  and  she  must  await  further  developments  as  it 
all  appeared  like  a  dream  to  me.  You  will  please  excuse 
me  at  this   time. 


A    VERITABLE    GHOST. 

BY    DR.    MICHAEL    MASON.    MUSKEGON,    MICH.     A    TRUE    STORY    THAT 

HAS  BEEN  KEPT  A  SECRET  ON  ACCOUNT  OF  AUTO- 

PERSONAL   INTEREST. 

Twentv  wearisome  years 
had  been  by  the  ceaseless 
pulse  of  time  beaten  into 
the  past  eternity  after  my 
first  ghost  experience  at  the 
Gobleville  cemetery  before 
my  second  experience  in 
ghost-craft  occurred. 

I  was  called  to  see  a 
young  lady  six  miles  away, 
who  was  at  her  grand  parents  on  a  visit,  expecting  to  stay  a 
Aveek  or  more,  to  rest  up  and  recuperate  her  vitality.  I  was 
told  where  to  find  her  and  that  I  need  not  necessarily  bother 
the  old  folks,  and  that  she  would  be  in  waiting  for  me  till 
lo  o'clock  p.  m.  that  day.  but  as  my  office  was  crowded  till 


19 


ro  o'clock.  I  did  not  get  there  till  eleven  at  night.  I  rapped 
at  the  door  gently  but  no  response.  I  then  went  to  her  bed 
room  window,  tapped,  no  reply,  but  saw  her  in  the 
balmy  embrace  of  ^lorpheus  with  a  light  in  the 
room,  and  to  follow  instructions  not  to  disturb  thfe 
grand  parents.  I  gently  raised  the  window  and  was 
nearly  in  her  room.  She  suddenly  awakened  with 
a  scream  which  aroused  the  old  folks,  and  at  the  same  mom- 
ent a  big  bull  dog  seized  me  by  the  seat  of  my  pants,  drew 
me  out  of  the  window,  and  with  two  or  three  vigorous  vi- 
brations of  the  head,  I  was  minus  the  seat  of  my  new  worsted 
pants,  and  had  a  few  dental  punctures  in  my  natial  region, 
while  the  dog  was  experimenting  with  his  trophy.  I  got  in 
where  my  prospective  patient  was  in  a  calm  expectancy  of 
my  immediate  return,  having  told  grandma  that  she  had 
been  dreaming,  and  had  in  her  dream  been  terribly  frightened 
by  nightmare,  told  them  it  was  a  common  occurence  for  her 
to  yell  out  in  a  dream,  requesting  her  to  retire,  which  she 
did.  Soon  the  door  was  open  for  me  and  I  was  open  for 
business  with  more  or  less  hyperaesthesia  at  my  transom,  as 
the  sailor  calls   it. 

I  was  not  long  in  dispensing  the  needed  specific  for 
amenorrhoea  of  the  suppressio  type.  I  mounted  my  sulky 
and  sped  homeward,  having  to  pass  the  place  of  my  first 
ghost  experience  a  few  years  prior,  and  as  I  came  near  the 
grave  yard,  I  discovered  therein  a  few  hay  cocks  from 
grass  which  had  grown  in  the  cemetery,  and  at  that  time 
hay  was  scarce  at  twenty  dollars  per  ton,  and  I  was  entirely 
out  of  hay  and  did  not  expect  a  supply  under  two  days.  I 
resolved  to  take  with  me  a  hitching  strap  full ;  so  I  hitched 
my  horse  beyond  the  four  corners  of  the  road,  got  over  into 
the  cemetery,  and  rolled  up  all  I  could  tie  with  the  strap.  I 
left  my  hat  under  the  seat  so  that  it  would  not  be  mussed 
by  hay  that  I,  like  my  German  mother,  carried  on  my  head. 
As  I  scaled  the  fence,  I  heard  some  voices  of  persons  wno 
were  rapidly  approaching.  I  sat  thinking  they  might  pass 
by  and  not  observe  me  with  the  hay  on  my  head.  One  of 
the  men  screamed  out  terribly  as  he  got  near  me.  "A  ghost? 
A  ghost!"  looked  at  me  in  the  haze  of  the  misty  darkness, 
screamed   again,  then   all   broke  away  in  different  d'rections- 


with  yells  at  every  bound.  I.  at  that  time,  did  not  delay  in 
mounting  my  sulky  and  sped  for  home  with  my  hay.  I  got 
there  without  further  accident,  opened  my  door  with  my 
night  key,  took  off  what  was  left  of  the  pants,  hid  it  and 
put  on  another  pair,  then  went  in  my  wife's  room,  who  w^as 
in  a  deep  somniferous  quietude.  No  questions  by  her  on 
this  occasion. 

The  next  day  there  appeared  in  the  Gobleville  News  that ' 
a  veritable  ghost  had  been  seen  at  the  Gobleville  cemetery, 
eight  feet  high,  with  head  as  big  as  a  hay  cock,  with  awful 
eyes  and  teeth;  that  Tom  Welch  and  old  Mr.  Strong  saw 
it  at  the  same  time,  that  it  stood  inside  the  grave  yard  fence, 
and  that  its  eyes  were  balls  of  fire,  and  its  teeth  as  large  as 
horse  teeth,  that  both  Welch  and  Strong  were  not  able  to 
be  out  by  their  fright.  I  was  called  to  see  them,  they  were 
both  affected  alike  with  involuntary  defecation  and  lassi- 
tude which  yielded  to  pill  opii.  My  bill  was  two  dollars 
each,  and  was  cheerfully  paid. 


A   LIVELY   CORPSE.    ' 

BY    WILHELMINA    SHORT.    M.D.,    D.D.S.,    OKLAHOMA    CITY. 

During  the  winter  of  1894,  in  dental  school  in  Chicago, 
where  over  250  students  were  in  attendance,  one  cold 
morning  we  were  waiting  for  the  professor  of  anatomy  to 
come  and  enlighten  us  on  the  muscular  system  by  demon- 
stration on  a  cadaver,  which  had  been  brought  in  before 
the  class  by  two  students  to  whomi  this  ghostly  duty  had 
been  assigned.  The  dead  body  was  on  a  narrow  table  and 
covered  with  a  white  sheet.  The  sight  of  this  table  caused 
a  solemnity  to  reign  supreme  over  the  entire  audience.  It 
was  indeed  a  solemn  spectacle,  for  many  present  had  never 
before  witnessed  such  a  scene.  Soon  the  door  of  the  lecture 
room  opened,  and  Dr.  E.  entered,  and  was  received  by  the 
students  with  the  usual  applause.  After  a  dignified  nod  of 
his   head   as   a   recognition   of  their   greeting,   he   stepped   to 


the  "stiff,"  remarking,  "today  we  will  take  up  the  muscular 
system;"  and  then  he  lifted  the  sheet  for  the  purpose  of  ex- 
posing the  dead  body,  when  the  cadaver  jumped  from  the 
table  and  ran  as  fast  as  his  feet  could  carry  him  through  the 
awe-stricken  audience,  to  the  nearest  exit,  through  which 
he  escaped.  Profound  silence  reigned  for  a  time,  then  the 
professor  looked  at  the  students,  and  the  students  looked 
at  the  professor,  then  all  at  once  seemed  to  grasp  the  idea 
that  a  mischevious  student,  or  students,  had  played  the 
prank  of  acting  cadaver,  and  had  run  to  save  himself  from 
the  cruel  treatment  of  a  frisfhtened  mob. 


TWO    GHOST    STORIES. 

BY  WALTER.  HAMILTON,   M.   D.,   TORONTO,   CANADA. 

UN  MAUVAIS  QUART  D'HOURE. 
(A  BAD  QUARTER  OP  AN  HOUR.) 

When  I  was  in  my  second  year  in  the  University  of  T — , 
subsequently  taking  my  later  medical  education  in  the  city 
of  New  York,  some  five  or  six  of  us  got  quite  behind  in 
our  dissecting  work  on  Subject  No.  23,  and  had  accordingly 
been  warned  that  any  further  loss  of  time  would  result  in 
the  said  cadaver  being  taken  from  us  and  given  to  more 
attentive  students.  So.  behold !  one  bleak,  stormy  Saturday 
night  we  gathered  in  force  in  the  old  dissecting  room  of 
the  T —  School  of  Medicine  and  went  to  work  and  study 
with   the   most   praiseworthy   diligence. 

It  was  a  dark,  bleak,  blustering  November  night,  just 
such  a  night  as  would  bring  one's  thoughts  involuntarily  to 
the  domain  of  all  that  is  superstitious  and  fearful.  Out- 
side the  old  building  the  wind  howled  and  mourned  in  fit- 
ful gusts  and  eddies,  causing  the  ancient  elms,  growing  in 
the  vicinity  of  the  college  walls,  to  creak  and  moan  as  if 
in  ])rotest  at  the  wild  outbursts  of  the  tempestuous  gale. 
Inside  we  had  arranged  things  to  our  satisfaction  and  were 


prepared  to  go  ahead  with  the  work  at  hand.  There  were 
five  of  us,  and  in  the  dissecting  room  were  about  eighteen 
subjects  in  every  stage  of  dissection  and  in  every  position 
needful  for  the  proper  prosecution  of  study. 

In  order  to  get  on  more  hurriedly  and  at  the  same  time 
to  facilitate  our.  operations,  the  "subject,"  No.  23,  on  which 
we  were  engaged,  being  at  a  stage  of  partial  dissection,  we 
had  divided  the  cadaver  into  two  parts  by  cutting  through 
one  of  the  inter-vertebral  spaces,  and  placed  the  upper  por- 
tion, including  the  head,  thorax  and  arms  on  a  table  be- 
hind that  one  on  which  we  were  operating  but  which  was 
parallel   to   it   in   position. 

Two  of  my  companions,  T —  and  N — ,  sat  between  the 
two  tables  with  their  backs,  of  course,  towards  the  other 
table  on  which  the  said  upper  portion  reclined ;  they  being 
busily  engaged  with  the  "subject"  on  our  own.  The  re- 
maining three  sat  facing  T —  and  N,  and  at  the  farther  side 
of   our   dissecting   table. 

The  old  "antique"  and  celebrated  janitor  of  that  day, 
but  now  occupying  a  similar  position  in  one  of  the  great 
medical  colleges  of  one  of  the  most  prosperous  western 
states  and  a  most  excellent  character  in  many  respects, 
had  secretly  let  us  have  this  opportunity  at  this  late  hour 
and  had  discreetly  retired  down  stairs  to  his  den  in  the  base- 
mient,  after  leaving  us  a  poor,  measly,  half-lit  lamp  to  shed 
what  light  it  possibly  could  on  the  abtruse  anatomical  prob- 
lem before  us.  Where  the  lamp  stood  there  was  a  little 
halo  of  light ;  without  that  halo  was  inky,  pitch-black 
darkness ! 

We  gathered  around  the  table  and  the  conversation, 
which  at  first  had  been  general  and  vivacious,  either 
through  the  intensity  of  our  study  or  influenced  by  our  sur- 
roundings, at  last  had  become  quite  desultory,  keeping  up 
by  fits  and  starts,  finally  being  unbroken  for  lengthened 
periods  at  a  time.  The  darkness  and  gloom  of  the  room, 
vast  and  barn-like  in  its  dimensions;  the  violence  of  the 
storm  without  and  the  gruesome  nature  of  our  entourage 
were  not,  indeed,  without  their  efiFect.  and  a  somewhat  eirie 
spirit   of   "je   ne  sais   quoishness"   fell   over  the   little   party 

23 


and  no  wonder — although   said  party  was   composed  of  sec- 
ond year   medical   students ! 

H —  was  repeating  in  the  most  fascinating  manner — his 
reputation  as  a  story-teller  was  of  the  highest — the  account 
of  some  ''resurrectionist"  experiences  in  a  little  town  ceme- 
tery at  some  distance  from  the  city,  and  had  just  entered 
upon  a  weird  description  of  the  sounds  proceeding  from  the 
corpse  as  he  and  his  companion  dragged  it  over  'the  grave- 
yard hillocks  towards  their  rendezvous — when  at  a  partic- 
ularly stronger  outburst  of  the  storm  outside,  there  flashed 
from  the  darkness  into  the  white  circle  of  light,  encompass- 
ing us — the  curved,  talon-like  hand  of  a  dead  man,  dark 
green  with  the  signs  of  decomposition,  and  struck  T — 
a  blow  on  the  side  of  the  face ! 

So  worked  up  had  been  the  nerves  of  the  company  that, 
without  a  moment's  hesitation,  the  whole  crowd  of  students 
precipitatedly  left  their  stools  (some  of  which  were  over- 
turned in  the  melee)  and  rushed  for  the  door  through  which 
one  or  two  nearly  fell  in  their  anxiety  to  get  away  from 
the  object  of  their  sudden  dread. 

Maturer  councils  prevailed,  and  then,  looking  back  into 
the  room;,  they  observed  the  overturned  stools,  the  fallen 
books  and  other  evidences  of  their  hasty  flight,  in  the  midst 
of  all  the  little  lamp  flickered  out  its  dismal  apology  for 
radiance.  The  bolder  spirits  recovered  their  breath,  and 
all  went  back  to  discover  the  cause  of  their  fright. 

It  seems  that  the  upper  part  of  our  ''subject,"  the  head, 
arms  and  thorax,  had  been  placed  on  its  back,  the  arms 
being  crossed  on  its  chest.  During  the  prosecution  of  our 
dissection  and  the  course  of  our  conversation,  one  of  the 
arms,  viz.,  that  one  near  to  T—  and  N — ,  had  gradually, 
by  the  force  of  gravitation  and  its  inherent  weight,  begun 
to  pull  away  from  its  former  position,  and  as  H^  had 
reached  a  most  interesting  and  opportune  period  in  his  story, 
the  limb  had  suddenly  swung  downwards  over  the  side  of 
the  dissecting  table,  striking  T —  in  its  swinging  descent! 
The  state  of  our  nerves,  the  concomitant  condition  of  the 
elements  that   night,  etc.,  etc..  had  done  the  rest! 


24 


SUPERSTITION  VS.  COLD  FACTS. 


Some    years    ago.   when    a 
young     lad     of     sixteen,     at- 
tending   the     Collegiate     In- 
stitute a't   N — ,  I   lived  with 
my     very    old     grandparents 
in     a     large,     many-roomed, 
somewhat    dreary    old    resi- 
dence   in    a    quiet    neighbor- 
hood. 
About  4  p.  m.  I  had  received  a  telegram  stating  that  the 
immediate  decease  of  a  favorite  brother  was  expected  at  al- 
most  any  hour,   and   that    I   might   prepare   for   a   summons 
home  at  any  moment. 

It  was  about  midnight  and  I  sat  with  my  grandmother 
around  a  stove,  which  on  account  of  the  unseasonable 
weather,  was  still  in  use.  I  was  feeling  very  miserable  and 
in  a  deep  fit  of  the  "blues."  My  grandmother  sat  asleep 
in  her  comfortable  arm-chair,  while  grandfather,  who  was 
a  long-suffering  victim  of  sciatica  and  chronic  rheumatism, 
half-reclined  against  the  end  of  a  bed-stead  in  the  room  and 
half  knelt  on  a  chair  nearby,  occasionally  falling  asleep  as 
he  stood. 

The  night  was  very  quiet,  except  an  occasional  draught 
of  Avind,  which  disturbed  the  old  sign-boards,  trees,  etc., 
in  the  street.      Silence  brooded  in  our  room. 

Of  course,  each  one's  thoughts  had  been  upon  the  ex- 
pected telegram  and  upon  my  brother's  approaching  death. 
Suddenly,  without  warning  and  ver}^  clearly,  came  three 
distinct  knocks,  as  if  some  strong  hand  hitting  the  door 
with  a  small  mallet.  One!  Two!!  Three!!!  All  heard  it 
and  started  up  at  once. 

"My,  what's  that?"  ejaculated  my  thoroughly  aroused 
grandmother.  No  one  having  an  explanation,  her  query 
remained  unanswered. 

She  thereupon  said  that  it,  undoubtedly,  was  a  warning 
of  the  death  of  my  brother  and  in  connection  with  her  state- 
ment went  on  to  tell  of  how  often  such  intimations  had  been 
received  bv   members  of  her  familv   in  England.     How  one 


25 


night  an  aunt  of  hers,  journeying  in  a  stage-coach  from  Lon- 
don to  Bath,  had  seen  in  the  darkness  without  the  window 
of  the  vehicle,  the  sad,  woe-stricken  countenance  of  a 
favorite  sister,  whom  she  did  not  know  at  that  time  to  be 
ill.  On  her  arrival  in  the  great  western  city,  she  was  in- 
formed of  the  same  sister's  death ! 

My  grandfather,  a  hard-headed,  shrewd  old  Scotchman,  had 
been  listening  to  all  this  without  comment,  but  with  a  grim 
smile  of  amused  contempt,  which  in  memory  to  this  day  I 
can  yet  see. 

"Well,  mistress,  if  you  are  through,  I  might  be  allowed 
to  explain  that  the  noise — the  'spirit  raps' — were  caused  by 
my  heavy  blackthorn  cane  falling  from  my  hand  (while  I 
momentaril}'-  fell  asleep)  and  then  running  rapidly  down 
and  along  the  three  large  protuberances  on  the  end  of  the 
old  bed-stead,  which  at  that  part  had  the  old-fashioned  bead- 
work,   so  common    (then)   in  wood   work !" 


"A  HA^ISH  FIEND." 

DR.   H.  W.   FLECK,   BRIDGEPORT,   CONN. 

One  cold  winter's  night,  as  I  was  preparing  for  bed,  I 
heard  a  loud  knock  at  my  office  door.  Glancing  at  the 
clock,  I  noticed  it  was  midnight,  and  wondering  who  my 
late  visitor  could  be,  hurried  to  the  door.  Upon  opening 
my  door,  I  was  not  obliged  to  exercise  the  courtesy  of  in- 
viting my  late  caller  in,  for  as  soon  as  the  door  was  opened 
he  rushed  by  me  like  the  snow  and  wind  which  followed 
after. 

Upon  going  into  mjy  inner  office,  I  was  dumfounded  to 
find  a  man  of  dwarfish  stature,  resembling  and  acting  like 
a  beast  more  than  like  a  man.  He  was  about  five  feet  high 
as  he  stood,  his  face  was  bloated  and  badly  splotched, 
while  his  eyes  were  streaked  with  alternate  red  and  yellow. 
Yiis  movements  were  quick  and  nervous,  and  as  he  hopped 
around  my  office  he  reminded  me  of  Mr.  iHyde'  in  Steven- 
son's  famous    romance. 

26 


The  first  words  he  uttered  when  I  entered  the  room,  were, 
"Where  is  your  hashish  bottle?"  and  from  that  time  on  I 
knew  that  I  was  in  the  presence  of  a  hashish  fiend.  Taking 
the  hashish  from  the  medicine  case,  I  poured  out  a  large  dose 
of  the  extract  and  handed  it  to  my  midnight  visitor.  He 
immediately  seized  the  glass,  as  if  he  were  afraid  I  would 
disappear,  and  drank  the  contents  at  one  gulp. 

Immediately  after  drinking  the  liquid  he  tottered  feebly 
to  a  chair,  where  he  lay  collapsed  for  a  few  minutes,  then 
he  suddenly  straightened  up,  and  a  most  wonderful  trans- 
formation had  taken  place;  he  no  longer  walked  about  with 
that  shrunken  form,  but  stood  erect  and  appeared  fully  five 
inches  taller.  The  sodden  dullness  of  his  expression  dis- 
appeared and  was  replaced  by  keen  sensibility  and  intelli- 
gence. 

"Doctor,"  began  my  strange  visitor,  "I  was  once  a  man 
with  wife,  children,  money  and  friends,  but  one  day  I  was 
taken  ill  with  that  painful  affection  known  to  your  profes- 
sion as  Tic-Dulea-Rue  and  sent  for  a  physician.  Upon  his 
arrival  he  prescribed  hashish,  known  to  your  profession  as 
cannabis  indicae.  How  well  do  I  remember  that  day,  as 
I  had  suffered  unspeakable  torture  for  ten  hours,  and  then 
to  be  transferred  from  hell  to  heaven,  as  it  were.  I  well  re- 
member how  I  blessed  the  drug  for  producing  this  effect 
in  transferring  me  from  a  world  of  care  and  pain  to  a  place 
of  rest  and  happiness.  I  blessed  the  drug  and  the  physician 
that  day,  but,  oh,  how  often  I  have  cursed  them  since.  My 
painful  action  lasted  for  weeks,  at  the  end  of  which  time 
I  was  a  confirmed  hashish  fiend.  My  physician  paid  me 
his  first  call  at  4:30  p.  m.  I  took  the  drug  according  to  his 
directions,  but  no  immediate  symptoms  were  produced. 
About  7  p.  m.  I  became  perfectly  oblivious  to  surrounding 
objects.  I  was  sitting  up  at  the  time  when  I  suddenly 
recollected  where  I  was,  and  looking  up,  saw  my  wife  sit- 
ting before  me.  The  conviction  was  irresistible  that  I  had 
sat  thus  many  minutes,  perhaps  hours,  and  directly  the  idea 
fastened   itself   that   the   hemp   had   commenced   to   act. 

"Shortly  after  this  I  became  quite  excited,  and  a  feeling  of 
hilarity  now  came  over  me.  It  was  not  a  sensous  feeling, 
in  the  ordinary  meaning  of  the  term,  it  was  a  sort  of  bien- 

27 


etre,  the  very  opposite  to  malaise.  It  did  not  come  from 
without,  it  was  not  connected  with  any  passion  or  sense. 
It  was  simply  a  feeling  of  inner  joyousness.  My  heart 
seemed  bouyant  beyond  all  trouble ;  my  whole  system  felt 
as  though  all  sense  of  fatigue  were  forever  banished ;  my 
mind  ran  riot,  free  to  leap  from  one  idea  to  another.  I  was  dis- 
posed to  laugh,  make  comic  gestures.  A  row  of  bottles  on  the 
shelf  soon  became  the  center  of  great  attraction  for  me,  in 
the  fact  that  I  imagined  they  were  trying  to  leap  over  each 
other.  After  this  I  felt  a  numbness  in  my  limbs,  also  a 
feeling  of  uneasiness  and  unrest  and  a  fear  lest  I  had  taken 
an  overdose.  I  now  constantly  walked  about  the  house ;  my 
skin  to  myself  was  warm,  in  fact,  my  whole  surface  felt 
flushed  ;  my  mouth  and  throat  were  very  dry ;  my  legs  put 
on  a  strange  foreign  feeling,  as  though  they  were  not  a  part 
of  my  body.  A  foreboding  and  undefined  horrible  fear,  as 
of  impending  death,  now  commenced  to  creep  over  me.  I 
alarmed  liiy  wife  so  much  with  my  strong  assertions  of  ap- 
proaching death  that  she  again  summoned  the  physician. 
The  curious  sensation  in  my  limbs  increased.  Aly  legs  felt 
as  though  they  were  waxen  pillars  beneath  me.  I  remem- 
ber of  feeling  my  legs ;  they  felt  hard  like  stone. 

"I  now  began  to  have  periods  when  all  connection  seemed 
to  be  severed  between  the  external  world  and  myself.  I 
was  oblivious  to.  all  external  objects,  but  on  coming  out  of 
one  it  was  not  a  blank,  dreamless  void  upon  which  I  looked 
back,  a  mere  empty  space,  but  rather  a  period  of  active  but 
aimless  life.  There  was  no  connecting  thought  in  them, 
only  wild  reveries,  without  any  link.  The  duration  of  these 
spells  to  me  was  very  great,  but  upon  consulting  my  watch 
found  them  to  be  only  a  minute  or  two.  I  now  lost  the 
power  of  measuring  time,  minutes  were  days  and  hours  were 
infinite.  What  I  thought  to  be  hours  were  only  m-nutes. 
Objects  which  were  near  appeared  to  be  a  vast  distance 
away.  My  limbs  now  began  to  grow  cold.  When  I  lifted 
my  legs,  it  was  like  lifting  lumps  of  lead.  From  now  on  all 
these  symptoms  became  intensified ;  the  periods  of  uncon- 
sciousness became  longer,  and  during  my  periods  of  con- 
sciousness,   intellection    was    more    imperfect.       The    feeling 

28 


of  death  became  more  intense.  A  voice  was  constantly  say- 
ing, 'You  will  surely  die.' 

"I  felt  two  spirits.  One  had  complete  control  of  me  ex- 
cept the  will  power,  and  caused  me  great  alarm ;  the  other 
was  soothing  and  encouraging. 

"The  doctor  now  arrived  and  had  me  undressed  and  put 
to  bed,  and  I  am  told  I  went  immediately  to  sleep.  When 
I  awoke  in  the  morning  my  mind  was  clear.  There  were  no 
effects  such  as  nausea,  headache  or  constipation.  Later  in 
the  day  my  pain  returned,  and  I  decided  to  bear  it  rather 
than  go  through  my  former  experience,  but  as  the  pain 
became  more  intense,  I  decided  to  try  the  drug  in  a  much 
smaller  dose,  which  banished  my  pain  and  transferred  me  to 
a  world  of  calm,  quiet  peace. 

"From  that  time  on  I  have  been  a  slave  to  the  drug,  and 
out  of  its  influence  I  am  as  you  saw  me  when  I  entered ;  un- 
der its  influence  I  am  as  you  see  me  now." 

By  this  time  the  sun  had  wafted  the  clouds  of  night  from 
the  sky,  and  bidding  my  strange  caller  farewell,  he  disap- 
peared in  the  dawn  of  the  early  morn. 


A    TWIST    UNTWISTED. 

BY  G.   A.   NORTON,   M.   D..   AURORA,    ILL. 

The  following  ghost  story  is  the  best  I  ever  heard  for 
the  use  of  the  medical  profession,  bearing  as  it  does  on  the 
proper  and  scientific  treatment  of  the  diseased  brain  ■  that 
suffered  the  illusion  or  delusion.  The  mentally  afflicted 
patient  came  to  see  his  family  doctor,  complaining  that  he 
was  so  worn  out  that  he  could  hardly  put  one  foot  before 
the  other,  and  was  constantly  growing  weaker,  so  came 
to  the  doctor's  office  before  he  became  too  exhausted  to 
bear  his  bodily  weight.  The  doctor  inquired  into  the  cause, 
and  the  patient  made  the  startling  announcement  that  ever}^ 
night  a  ghost  came  into  his  bed  room  and  saddled  and 
bridled  him,  got  astride  his  back  and  galloped  him  off  into 

29 


the  country  about  ten  miles.  Then  the  ghost  tied  him  to 
a  board  fence  and  left  him  there  till  nearly  morning,  when 
the  ghost  again  galloped  him  back  to  the  patient's  bed 
chamber,  unsaddled  and  unbridled  him  and  put' him  to  bed. 
This  had  been  going  on  for  a  number  of  months,  and  the 
poor  man  could  not  stand  such  horse-treatment  at  the  hands 
of  a  horrid  ghost  any  longer,  so  appealed  to  his  good  friend, 
the  family  physician,  for  relief  from  such  beastly  abuse  of 
an  inoffensive  human.  This  was  surely  a  new  disease, 
with  no  literature  or  experience  on  the  part  of  any  practi- 
tioner, as  to  the  correct  treatment,  and  there  was  no  time 
to  be  lost  if  this  patient  was  to  be  saved.  The  doctor 
thought,  as  only  doctors  can  when  such  a  call  for  originality 
was  demanded,  when  he  struck  upon  this  unique  and  ef- 
fectual plan  of  treatment.  In  reply  to  the  patient's  most 
earnest  question,  ^'Doctor,  can  you  stop  this  ghost  from  do- 
ing this  to  me?"  the  wise  physcian  said,  "Yes,  if  I  can  only 
find  the  fence  where  the  ghost  hitches  you."  Then  to  find 
the  spot,  the  doctor  told  the  patient  to  mark  the  spot  that 
night  after  he  was  hitched  and  the  ghost  had  gone  out  of 
sight  into  the  timber  beyond,  by  gnawing  the  top  board 
with  his  teeth  as  deeply  as  he  had  the  time  to  do,  and  to 
paw  the  ground  also  as  much  as  possible  This  the  sorry 
and  tired  man  agreed  to  do.  The  doctor  anticipating  the 
result  went  out  to  the  sick  man's  house  early  the  next  morn- 
ing, and  when  his  patient  came  down  stairs  the  M.  D.  dis- 
covered a  decidedly  silly  expression  upon  the  face  of  his 
entirely  cured  patient.  The  doctor  ran  up  the  stairs  to 
the  late-deluded  man's  bed  room,  when  he  found  the 
dreamer  had  gnawed  the  head-board  of  the  bed  nearly 
through,  and  had  pawed  the  bedding  all  away,  down  to  the 
springs. 

Doctors,  there  is  a  deep  lesson  for  us  all  in  the  plan  of 
this  treatment,  and  not  to  learn  it  is  to  fail  to  be  a  great 
physician.  It  embodies  one  of  the  great  truths  not  dreamed 
of  in  the  philosophy  of  the  merely  mechanical  doctor  in 
medicine.  The  mental  twists  of  many  of  our  patients  must 
be  in  some  way  untwisted  or  we  fail,  utterly  fail,  in  our  la- 
bored attempt  to  cure  them  to  their  satisfaction. 


30 


A  LIVELY  SPIRIT. 

BY  W.   A.   GRIFFIN,   M.   D.,   PORT   HURON.   MICH. 

The  following  actually  occurred : 

Some  years  ago  a  man  named  S — ,  who  had  failed  to 
graduate  at  H — .  was  attending  the  Model  School  in  St. 
T — .  He  was  very  religiously  inclined,  and  had  a  high 
sense  of  his  moral'  and  spiritual  obligations.  He  fancied 
himself  so  much  admired  that  it  required  an  effort  on  his 
part  to  prevent  the  lovely  class  from  bowing  at  his  feet. 

The  Avriter  was  then  about  sixteen  years  of  age,  and  al- 
lowed himself  to  be  drawn  into  a  plot  which  taught  Mr. 
S —  a  valuable  lesson.  A  letter  was  written  and  sent  to 
S — •  expressing  ardent  admiration  and  begging  an  answer 
and  an  interview.  Our  St.  Anthony  fell  a  victim  and  ac- 
corded a  meeting,  naming  the  rendevouz.  But  cruel  papa 
and  vigilant  mamma  delayed  the  meeting,  until  at  last  it 
had  to  be  secured  at  a  risk  or  the  prize  lost.  The  meeting 
took  place  about  dusk.  It  was  very  affectionate  from  the 
outset,  and  as  the  lady  (who  was  only  a  young  man  in 
lady's  attire)  had  a  long  way  to  go.  so  the  journey  home- 
ward soon  began.  Through  the  town  they  wended  their 
Avay.  and  the  old  saying,  "the  furthest  way  round  is  the 
■easiest  way  found,"  was  suggested  and  followed,  gaining 
an  audience,  which  was  augmented  at  every  turn.  Through 
the  town  and  far  past  it,  mile  after  mile,  over  hill  and  dale, 
until  a  deep  ravine  was  reached,  which  they  crossed  and 
ascended  on  the  other  side,  when  the  young  lady  as- 
sured the  gallant  escort  that  she  could  surely  go  the  rest 
of  the  way  without  his  kind  attention,  and  Mr.  S —  began 
his  lonely  walk,  and  'the  plot  developed.  Behind  a  huge 
log  hid  a  score  of  the  villainous  plotters.  But  one,  a  young 
physician,  had  arrayed  himself  in  the  accepted  garb  of  his 
Satanic  majesty,  with  horns,  forked  tail  and  all.  This  cos- 
tume was  covered  with  phosphorous,  which  gave  a  lumin- 
ous appearance,   and   at  his  feet  were  scrolls  of  gunpowder. 


As  S —  drew  nigh,  a  coal  was  touched  to  the  powder,  an 
unearthly  yell  uttered,  and  the  devil  himself  appeared  to 
be  coming  out  of  the  raging  fire,  and  proceeded  in  the  di- 
rection   of   S — . 

Poor  S —  gave  a  frightened  shriek,  started  in  a  run  and 
never  looked  back  nor  slackened  his  pace,  as  he  himself  said, 
until  he  was  in  his  bed  room  at  the  other  end  of  town. 

Next  morning  he  insisted  on  asking  the  blessing  at  break- 
fast, recounted  his  experience,  and  assured  his  hearers  that 
he  lay  on  his  back  all  night  in  mortal  dread,  expecting  Satan 
to  make  his  appearance  every  instant. 


THE  GHOST  OF  POPLAR  ORCHARD. 

BY  B.   MOORE,   M.   D.,   ESPERANCE,   N.   Y. 

Some  years  ago,  while  practicing  medicine  in  a  small  vil- 
lage situated  on  the  bank  of  the  Schoharie  river,  in  the 
state  of  New  York,  I  was  called  to  see  a  patient  who  lived 
some  four  miles  farther  down  the  stream,  in  a  village  called 
B —  Ville.  It  was  late  in  the  month  of  October.  The  leaves 
were  mostly  ofif  the  trees,  and  the  weather  was  quite  cool. 

I  reached  B —  Ville  at  7  p.  m.,  and  found  my  patient,  a 
young  man,  suffering  from  typhoid  fever,  and  after  prescrib- 
ing. I  was  untying  my  horse,  when  a  young  girl  came 
and  told  me  that  Mrs.  H — ,  who  had  been  visiting  her 
daughter  for  a  few  days,  had  sent  her  to  ask  if  she  might 
ride  home  with  me,  and  if  I  would  wait  half  an  hour  for  her. 
I  agreed  to  do  so. 

I  walked  over  to  the  store,  where  I  found  quite  a  collec- 
tion of  farmers,  and  one  or  two  stock  buyers,  sitting  around 
a  fire.  The  conversation  was  a  little  out  of  the  ordinary, 
being  nothing  less  than  the  Ghost  of  Poplar  Orchard.  I  got 
a  cigar  and  sat  down  in  the  circle.  Poplar  Orchard  is  a 
straggling  sort  of  woods,  about  half  a  mile  long,  lying  be- 
tween the  village  of  E —  and  B —  Ville,  and  consisting  of 
white    poplars,    white    birch,    hemlock    and    beech    trees.       T 

32 


had  often  heard  of  the  ghost  that  was  said  to  have  been 
seen  there^  but  had  never  seen  any  one  w^ho  had  seen  it. 
The  night  before,  a  farmer,  traveling  from  B —  Ville  to  E — 
had  seen  it,  and  as  he  was  one  of  the  number  present,  I 
asked  him  wdiat  there  was  in  it.  "Well,"  said  he,  "I  had 
heard  of  this  ghost  on  several  occasions,  but  had  no  faith 
in  it.  I  alw^ays  said  it  was  an  old  sheep,  a  white  calf,  some 
old  white  horse  or  some  such  thing,  but  I'll  swear  now  that 
it  is  not.  Just  what  it  is,  I  don't  know,  but  it  is  the  figure 
of  a  person  all  in  white,  standing  with  one  hand  raised.  I 
stopped  and  looked  at  it,  and  it  was  not  more  than  a  rod 
from  the  road;  and  as  soon  as  my  horse  started,  the  thing- 
was  gone,  and  I  saw  nothing  more  of  it,  and  that's  all  I 
know  about  it.  I'm  not  timid,  but  I  don't  care  to  see  the 
thing   again." 

"It's  strange,"  said  the  storekeeper,  "that  it's  never  seen 
on  dark  nights,  but  always  by  moonlight ;  and  always  at  about 
nine  or  ten  o'clock.  I've  seen  several  who  have  seen  it, 
and  they  all  tell  the  same  story  that  Jake  has  told.  It's 
always  in  the  same  place,  and  always  vanishes  just  as  they 
are  passing  it.  Doctor,"  said  he,  ''you  have  been  on  that 
road  day  and  night  as  much  as  anyone  about  here :  Have 
you  ever  seen  anything?" 

I  answered  that  I  had  never  seen  anything  of  the  kind. 
Some  one  suggested  that  my  ideas  of  temperance  were  not, 
perhaps,  just  in  accordance  with  those  who  had  seen  the 
ghost,  but  at  this  point,  Mrs.  H —  entered  the  store,  and 
making  some  apology  for  keeping  me  waiting,  we  started. 
The  polite  storekeeper  came  out,  helped  Mrs.  H —  into 
the  wagon,  wished  us  a  pleasant  ride,  and  hoped  that  we 
would  see  no  spooks.  I  laughed  at  his  last  remark,  and 
answered  that  I  expected  no  such  good  luck,  and  started. 
Mrs.  H —  was  a  middle-aged  Scotch  woman,  with  a  per- 
fectly healthy  mind  and  body.  As  we  were  going  up  the 
hill,  she  asked  what  the  storekeeper  meant,  in  speaking 
about  "spooks"?  I  related  what  I  had  heard  in  the  store, 
and  she  simply  remarked  that  she  did  not  believe  in  such 
nonsense,  and  the  subject  was  dropped. 

We    soon    reached    the   top   of   the   hill,   and   about   half   a 
mill  farther,  we  came  to  a   deep  gorge,  heavily  wooded  on 

33 


either  side  with  hemlocks ;  beyond  this,  we  came  to  a  stretch 
of  cleared  land,  and  then  we  entered  the  Poplar  Orchard. 

Mrs.  H —  was  speaking  of  her  daughter  and  son-in-law, 
and  of  the  extra  good  crop  of  apples,  and  seemed  to  have 
forgotten  the  ghost,  and  I  think  I  should  also  have  for- 
gotten it,  but  for  the  wailing  note  of  a  little  screech  owl 
that  came  quivering  from  the  hillside  below ;  but  Mrs.  H — 
seemed  not  to  hear  this.  We  were  now  near  the  middle 
of  Poplar  Orchard,  when  Mrs.  H —  suddenly  stopped  speak- 
ing seized  the  hand  with  which  I  was  driving,  and,  pointing 
right  across  my  face,  said:  "Look!  Look!"  I  followed  the 
direction  indicated,  and  there  stood  a  figure  draped  in  daz- 
zling white.  The  draw  on  the  lines  as  Mrs.  H —  seized  my 
hand  caused  the  horses  to  stop.  The  figure  stood  perfectly 
still  with  one  hand  raised.  I  could  see  the  dark  eyes  and 
the  mouth,  but  could  not  make  out  the  features. 

How  long  we  stood  there,  I  cannot  tell ;  about  two  min- 
utes, I  should  think.  I  could  feel  Mrs.  H —  trembling  vio- 
lently, and  as  for  myself,  I  should  be  ashamed  to  say  that 
I  was  afraid,  but  I  had  an  indescribable  feeling,  and  some- 
thing decidedly  like  a  chill  went  down  my  back.  The  horse 
had  shown  no  fear,  but  now  began  to  paw  impatiently, 
and  started,  and  the  figure  almost  instantly  disappeared. 

I  looked  back,  but  could  see  nothing  of  the  figure. 

We  rode  on  in  silence  for  some  distance,  when  Mrs.  H — 
asked,  "Doctor,  what  was  it?"  I  answered,  of  course,  that 
I  did  not  know ;  but  told  her  that  I  meant  to  find  out,  and 
cautioned  her  to  say  nothing  about  the  matter,  lest  we  be 
subject  to  ridicule.  She  promised  to  say  nothing,  and  we 
rode  on  home. 

My  experience  made  a  deeper  impression  on  my  mind 
than  I  had  thought  any  such  thing  ever  could.  T  had  really 
seen  it  and  did  not  have  to  take  any  one's  word. 

Just  outside  of  the  village  lived  a  man  named  Montanye. 
He  was  a  great  fox  hunter,  and  from  his  general  appear- 
ance, I  thought  him  to  be  a  most  fearless  fellow.  I  had 
seen  him  through  an  attack  of  peritonitis  once,  and  he  had 
always  been  a  great  friend  of  mine.  I  sent  word  to  him  next 
day  that  I  would  like  to  see  him  at  my  ofifice,  and  about 
noon  he  came  in,  looking  as  lazy  and  good  natured  as  ever, 

34- 


and  helped  himself  to  a  chair,  filled  his  pipe  and  said,  "Well, 
Doc,  what  is  it  that  you. want?"  "I  want  you  to  go  with  me 
to  B —  Ville."  "Want  me  for  consultation,  Doc?"  he  asked, 
laughingly.  "Yes,"  I  answered,  "I  have  a  case  that  I  don't 
quite  understand,  and  want  you  to  help  me.  I'll  tell  you 
about  it  on  the  way  down.  Will  you  go?"  "Yes."  he  an- 
swered. 

I  called  a  little  after  six,  at  his  house,  found  him  waiting, 
and  we  started.  On  the  way  I  related  my  experience.  He 
looked  at  me,  and  said,  "Well,  Doc,  it's  awful  stuff.  I've 
tried  it  several  times.  After  drinking  it.  a  man  can  see  most 
anything." 

We  reached  B —  Ville  at  about  seven  o'clock,  and  having 
attended  to  my  patient,  we  started  home,  about  nine  o'clock. 
We  had  passed  the  dark  hemlock  gorge,  the  cleared  space 
beyond,  and  now  we  drew  near  the  Poplar  Orchard,  where 
I  had  seen  the  figure.  As  we  drew  near  the  spot.  I  was 
straining  my  sight  to  see  the  spectre  of  the  previous  night. 
The  barking  of  a  fox  on  the  hill  on  our  right  had  attracted 
Frank's  attention,  and  he  was  saying,  "Yes,  you  old  vixen, 
if  the  weather  holds  good  I'll  be  down  here  tomorrow  and 
give  you  a  lively  run  for  your  pelt."  Frank  had  hardly  ut- 
tered the  above  words,  when  I  saw  the  same  white  figure 
standing  under  the  hemlock,  one  hand  raised  and  the  eyes 
and  mouth  showing  quite  distinctly.  I  stopped  the  horse 
and  nudged  Frank  and  pointed  toward  the  figure.  "For 
God's  sake,  Doc.'^  said  he,  "what  can  it  be?"  I  did  not 
answer. 

We  sat  still.  The  figure  stood  perfectly  still,  its  outlines 
distinctly  showing  against  the  small,  dark  hemlocks  beyond 
it.  We  remained  in  silence  for  some  minutes,  then  I  whis- 
pered   to  Frank   to  take  the   lines. 

.  "For  God's  sake,"  said  he,  "don't  get  out  of  the  wagon!" 
"Take  the  lines !  take  the  lines !"  I  answered.  "I'm  not 
going  to  get  out !"  He  took  the  lines,  and  I  took  out  my 
handkerchief,  tore  off  a  strip,  and  leaning  out  of  the  wagon, 
got  hold  of  a  bush,  and  tied  the  piece  to  it.  "Drive  on."  I 
whispered.      The  horse   started   and   the   figure   vanished. 

A\'e   rode  on   in   silence   for  some   way.   when    Frank   said. 

35 


"I've  hunted  foxes  by  day.  and  'coons  by  night,  and  I  never 
before  saw  any  such  thing  as  that !" 

The  next  day  we  made  the  trip  again  and  stopped  at  the 
spot  where  the  piece  of  handkerchief  still  hung  on  the  bush, 
and  looked  carefully  from  the  wagon,  but  could  see  no  sign 
of  our  ghost.  So  we  tied  our  horse,  got  out  and  looked  the 
ground  all  over  carefully,'  but  found  nothing  but  the  small 
hemlocks  and  white  birches  and  beech  trees.  After  about 
half  an  hour  of  fruitless  hunting,  Frank  had  returned  to 
the  wagon  and  climbed  up  into  it,  while  I  was  still  hunt- 
ing. All  at  once  I  heard  Frank  calling,  "Come  here."  I 
returned  to  the  wagon.  "Climb  up  here ;  Fve  found  him !" 
I  got  into  the  wagon  and  he  pointed  to  the  bole  of  a  white 
birch  tree  standing  just  beyond  the  hemlock.  It  was  so 
shaded  by  the  smaller  hemlock  that  it  had  the  exact  form 
of  a  person,  the  dark  spots  in  the  bole,  marking  the  site  of 
former  branches,  made  the  eyes  and  the  mouth,  while  a 
broken  limb  standing  out  from  the  trunk  made  the  raised 
arm,  and  an  opening  in  the  branches  let  the  moonlight  shine 
directly  upon  that  side  of  the  birch,  giving  it  a  very  white 
appearance.  As  soon  as  we  started  the  whole  thing  was 
changed  by  the  intervention  of  some  small  trees.  And  the 
Ghost  of  Poplar  Orchard,  the  only  ghost  I  have  ever  seen,, 
was    fulh'    explained. 


MY  OWN   GHOST. 

BY    F.    C.    ECKELMAN,    M.    D.,    ELKHART,    IND. 

In  1859  I  '^^'^s  in  the  dissecting  room  of  the  Pennsylvania 
iMedical  College,  Philadelphia  (now  extinct)  all  alone,  up 
about  seven  stories.  I  had  on  my  dissecting  gown,  as  stu- 
dents then  wore. 

In  the  room  there  were  about  eighteen  or  twenty-five 
cadavers  in  the  dififernt  stages  of  dissecting.  The  reason 
I  was  alone  in  the  room  on  this  particular  evening  was  that 
the  rest  of  the  class  had  gone  to  the  theater  to  see  a  partic- 

36 


iilar  play.  I  being  very  poor  did  not  think  I  could  afford 
to  go,  so  thought  I  would  dissect  a  while  and  then  go  to 
my   room. 

After  I  had  done  so  for  some  time  I  imagined  I  heard 
peculiar  noises.  From  where  the  noises  came  I  could  form 
no  idea,  so  I  got  ready  for  a  tour  of  inspection. 

I  knew  of  the  last  ''subjects"  that  came  into  the  dis- 
secting room  and  went  and  uncovered  these  to  see  whether 
any  had  come  to  life.  Perhaps  I  uncovered  six  or  more ; 
by  this  time  the  noises  became  thicker,  faster  and  plainer, 
to  my  mind.  Then,  of  course,  I  got  lonesome,  and  wished 
I  were  elsewhere  than  among  the  cadavers,  and  concluded 
I  had  better  get  down  stairs  and  out  onto  the  sidewalk  be- 
fore the  ghosts  could  kidnap  me.  so  I  must  get  on  my 
coats  and  leave  the  dissecting  gown  on  the  hook  as  was 
my  practice. 

By  that  time  my  nerves  were  well  worked  up ;  so  I  backed 
up  to  the  wash-stand  (of  course,  I  could  not  turn  my  back 
to  so  many  dead  ones  for  fear),  and  washed  my  hands  the 
best  I  could,  then  backed  up  to  where  my  coats  were,  put 
off  the  gown,  and  put  on  my  coats ;  then  began  to  back  out 
of  the  dissecting  room  to  get  down  stairs,  at  the  same  time 
trying  to  eye  each  and  every  one  of  the  cadavers,  for  by 
this  time  I  thought  that  each  one  was  after  me  for  sure. 
Outside  the  dissecting  room  I  still  backed  down  the  stairs 
and  when  perhaps  half  way  down  and  still  backing  and  look- 
ing up  to  see  w^hether  the  ghosts  were  coming  after  me  in 
some  way,  a  reflected  light  threw  my  own  shadow  against 
the  wall,  which  I  saw;  and  then  I  made  all  the  noise  an 
Indian  could.  • 

When  I  reached  the  sidewalk  I  had  to  explain  my  ex- 
perience with  my  first  ghost  to  the  policeman,  who  thought 
I  was  scared  enough  without  being  arrested. 


37 


A  FEMALE  GHOST. 

BY  W.  E.  H.  MORSE,  ALGONA,  IOWA. 

It  was  the  latter  part  of  October.  The  weather  was  fine 
and  bracing,  the  frost  had  touched  the  leaves  with  crimson 
and  g'old,  making  the  landscape  beautiful.  I  had-  been  at- 
tending a  case  of  typhoid  fever  some  seven  miles  from 
town,  and,  on  the  night  of  my  story,  I  had  to  make  several 
calls  in  the  vicinity  of  my  typhoid  fever  patient.  It  was 
about  midnight  when  I  finally  turned  my  team  toward 
home.  The  night  was  beautiful,  the  sky  clear,  and  the 
moon,  slowly  sinking  in  the  western  sky,  was  shedding  a 
soft  light  over  the  landscape,  making  it  nearly  as  light  as 
day.  I  got  into  my  buggy,  drew  the  robes  around  me,  and 
started  for  home.  My  team  was  trustworthy,  and  I  felt  per- 
fectly safe  in  giving  them  the  lines,  settling  back  in  the  seat, 
and  taking  a  doze,  knowing  that  they  would  take  me  home. 

The  wind  was  blowing  gently  in  my  face,  and  I  was  soon 
sound  asleep.  I  had  just  passed  a  little  country  cemetery, 
Avhcre  several  of  my  patients  were  peacefully  sleeping,  when 
my  team  stopped  with  a  snort,  and  I  suddenly  awoke, 
straightened  up  in  my  seat,  and  looked  around  to  see  what 
was  the  matter;  and  there,  coming  down  the  road  toward 
nic,  a  few  rods  in  front  of  my  team,  was  a  woman  dressed 
all  in  white.  Her  dress  or  robe,  which  seemed  to  be  of  a 
thin  gauze  material,  was  streaming  out  in  the  wind,  as  was 
also  her  hair,  which  was  white,  or  at  least  very  light.  She 
had  nothing  on  her  head,  and  as  the  moon  had  now  set  and 
a  haziness  spread  over  the  sky,  I  could  not  see  her  features. 
She  came  quietly  down  the  road,  and  when  within  a  rod 
of  the  horses'  heads,  she  turned  out  of  the  road  and  passed 
me  on  the  left,  keeping  well  out  and  turning  her  face  away 
from  me,  so  I  could  not  see  it.  The  team  shied  some,  but 
I  easily  controlled  them  and  kept  watch  of  my  lady  in  white. 
After  she  had  gone  about  a  rod  past  me,  she  turned  back 
into   the   road,  went   quietly   on   unt'l    she   reached   the   little 

3S 


cemetery  spoken  of,  which  was  probably  fifteen  or  twenty 
rods  away.  There  she  seemed  to  sit  or  crouch  down  by 
the  fence  and  beckoned  to  me.  Who  or  what  could  this 
woman  be?  Here  it  was  past  midnight,  with  frost  cover- 
ing everything,  a  mile  to  the  nearest  house,  and  she  out 
here    in    this    lonely    spot    clad    only    in    her    night    apparel. 

And  why  was  she  beckoning  to  nie?  Clearly  it  was  the 
spirit  of  one  of  my  patients,  lying  there  in  the  cemtery,  that 
was  beckoning  to  me  to  come.  What!  to  the  cemetery? 
I  admit  that  I  felt  a  little  chilly,  but  then  the  night  was 
frosty.  What  could  she  want  of  me?  Would  it  not  be  wiser 
to  mind  my  own  business  and  drive  home  than  to  stop  and 
interview  a  ghostly  apparition  at  that  unseasonable-  time 
and  place?  Still,  if  I  should  go  home  without  finding  out 
what  it  was  I  should  always  be  sure  I  had  seen  a  ghost. 
I  drove  my  team  up'  to  the  fence,  tied  it  and  slowly  walked 
toward  the  cemetery.  There  she  was  sitting  as  placidly  as 
ever,  with  her  dress  and  long  hair  streaming  in  the  wind, 
and  ever  and  anon  beckoning  to  me.  When  I  arrived  within 
four  or  five  rods,  I  said,  "What's  wanted?"  But  instead  of 
a  reply  she  waved  her  hand  and  moved  back  a  few  feet. 
This  looked  very  suspicious  to  me,  and  I  stopped  to  think 
the  matter  over.  I  had  seen  death  in  various  forms  and  had 
also  seen  cemeteries  at  night,  but  I  had  never  seen  anything 
like  this  before.  I  had  nothing  to  defend  myself  with,  and  if 
it  were  a  supernatural  being,  it  would  be  of  no  use  if  I  had. 
so  I  made  a  few  steps  forward  and  said,  "Is  there  anything 
I  can  do  for  you?  Are  you  in  distress?"  Still  no  answer. 
I  felt  decidedly  like  turning  around  and  going  home,  but 
my  curiosity  was  so  great  I  finally  screwed  my  courage  to 
the  sticking  point  and  began  to  approach  the  white 
specter.  My  hair  felt  a  little  peculiar  and  I  thought  my 
hat  raised  up  a  little,  but  it  was  undoubtedly  the  wind.  I 
walked  slowly  up  till  I  was  within  about  three  steps  of  her, 
when  the  flowing  hair  and  gown  disappeared,  the  female 
shrank  down,  and  I  beheld  a  nespaper  caught  on  the  fence 
and  one  corner  of  it  fluttering  in  the  wind.  I  heaved  a  sigh 
of  relief,  went  back  to  my  buggy,  and  drove  home  with  the 
satisfaction  of  knowing  that  it  only  takes  imagination  to 
make  a  ghost. 

39 


MY  GREATEST  FRIGHT. 

BY   W.   T.   CLARK,   M.   D.,    KINKLER.   TEXAS. 

I  think  it  was  in  the  year  1858  while  Hving  in  East  Texas, 
I  was  called  seven  miles  from  home  late  one  evening  to  see 
a  patient,  and  did  not  get  ready  to  return  home  before  about 
one  o'clock  at  night.  The  country  was  sparsely  settled  at 
that  time,  there  being  no  dwellings  between  there  and  my 
house.  The  night  was  very  dark  and  cold.  My  road  led 
me  by  an  old  log  church  house,  with  a  graveyard,  near  the 
road.  I  was  on  horseback  (in  those  days  we  cpuld  not  af- 
ford a  buggy).  I  was  riding  in  a  fast  walk,  with  my  cap 
pulled  down  over  my  ears,  and  was  in  a  deep  study.  When 
passing  the  graveyard  my  attention  was  thrillingly  arrested 
by  hearing  a  mumbling  human  voice,  accompanied  by  the 
noise  as  if  some  one  were  striking  the  palings  of  a  grave 
with  a  stick,  immediately  beside  the  road.  My  horse  stop- 
ped with  fright  and  stood  perfectly  still,  in  spite  of  my  in- 
tense endeavor  to  make  him  move  on,  with  the  unearthly 
noise  approaching  me  slowly,  the  sweat  stood  in  large,  cold 
drops  on  my  face,  and  my  whole  body  was  almost  paralyzed, 
when  I  aroused  myself.  I  was  still  standing  in  the  road 
and  could  not  or  would  not  urge  m}^  horse  to  move.  I  had 
my  pistol  drawn  and  pointed  at  what  I  thought  was  a 
woman  (or  at  least  a  woman's  attire),  trying  my  utmost 
to  pull  the  trigger,  but  was  unable  to  do  so.  The  object 
was  still  approaching.  I  tried  to  speak,  but  could  not.  I 
tried  to  scream,  but  could  not  utter  a  sound,  and  all  the 
time  the  ghost  was  getting  very  close  to  my  horse,  which 
seemed  paralyzed  equally  with  myself.  Still  holding  my 
pistol  on  the  object  and  trying,  as  I  thought,  to  shoot, 
there  I  remained  as  a  frozen  statue,  helpless.  I  suppose 
a  revulsion  of  feeling  took  place,  anrl  I  found  myself  face 
to  face  with  a  crazy  old  woman  of  the  neighborhood,  who 
bad  wandered  away  from  home  and  had  gone  into  the  grave- 
yard at  that  late  hour  of  the   night.      I   don't   know   how   I 

40 


left  there  nor  how  I  got  my  horse  to  move,  but  I  found  my- 
self at  home,  my  clothing  all  wet  with  perspiration  as  if  I 
had  been  immersed  in  a  pool  of  water,  with  my  hair  gray 
the  next  morning. 


A  SAD  STORY. 

BY  J.  B.  CUMMINS.  M.  D..  CUYER  CREEK,  TEXAS. 

Among  the  lofty  hills  and  rugged  valleys  of  Tennessee 
is  a  nice  little  village  called  Snow  Creek,  The  village  was 
so  named  because  of  the  mountain  stream  that  flows  thereby. 
In  earlier  days  when  this  valley  was  covered  by  tall  ash 
and  beech  trees,  the  winter  snow  was  protected  from  the 
spring  sun  by  this  tall  timber,  so  that  it  remained  upon  the 
ground  in  this  valley  long  after  it  was  all  gone  elsewhere, 
hence  the  name  of  the  creek  and  the  village. 

In  that  little  village  during  antibellum  days  a  physician 
by  the  name  of  Hawthorn  settled.  By  the  year  1882  he 
had  raised  a  large  family.  During  the  spring  months  of  this 
year  Dr.  Hawthorn  had  for  a  patient  the  daughter  of  a  poor 
widow  lady,  the  girl  aged  about  16  or  17  years,  had  a  strange 
and  mysterious  malady,  and  a  condition  not  well  understood 
by   the    doctors. 

Day  after  day  they  visited  the  chamber  of  the  poor  sick 
girl.  Beautiful  when  well,  she  became  pale  and  interesting. 
Each  succeeding  week  found  her  sinking,  each  succeeding 
week  found  the  doctor's  hope  of  her  recovery  sinking. 

As  the  damp,  depressing  season  advanced  the  patient 
gradually  faded  away.  The  old  country  church  yard,  two 
miles  away  among  the  primitive  beech  and  elm  trees,  was 
selected  as  her  burial  place.  The  funeral  services  were  sad 
to  the  poor,  lonely  widow,  sad  for  the  physicians,  because 
they  had  lost  a  patient  so  youthful  and  promising,  sad  to  the 
girls  of  the  village,  because  they  had  lost  a  favorite  friend, 
sad  to  the  doctor's  son  for  reasons  easily  inferred. 

After  the   funeral    services   were   over  this  young   man   in 

* 

41 


his  loneliness  wandered  oft'  to  a  neighboring  village.  By 
night  he  was  returning  home  when  a  threatening  storm 
caused  him  to  stop  for  shelter  in  the  old  country  church, 
the  same  where  the  funeral  services  were  held  a  few  hours 
before. 

He  thought  he  was  in  the  darkness  all  alone,  he  walked 
lightly  up  and  down  the  aisle  thinking  of  the  untimely 
demise  of  his  favorite  friend,  when  a  bright  flash  of  light- 
ening disclosed  the  form  of  the  deceased  girl  upon  a  seat 
near  by.  Fright  and  surprise  impelled  him  to  stand  and 
look  through  the  darkness  to  the  place  of  the  strange  scene. 
While  thus  doubting  what  had  passed  before  his  eyes,  an- 
other flash  of  lightening  confirmed  his  first  belief.  Really, 
there  was  the  dead  girl   in  her  grave   clothes. 

He  sprang  towards  the  door,  but  was  caught  by  strong 
arms  from  each  side.  Fright  overcame  him,  as  it  would 
any  one  else.  He  sank  to  the  floor.  He  knew  not  how  long 
he  lay,  but  the  rain  was  falling  in  his  face  when  he  awoke, 
still  carried   by  the  four  strong  arms. 

He  was  placed  in  his  buggy,  and  upon  pain  of  death 
was  strictly  charged  never  to  tell  of  this  night's  adventure 
and  what  he  had  seen. 

Another  strange  case  now  confronted  Dr.  Hawthorne,  his 
son's  nervous  system  was  thoroughly  shattered.  The  cause 
could  not  be  found  out.  He  would  tell  nothing.  Finally 
it  became  the  painful  duty  of  the  father  to  tell  the  son  that 
death  was  inevitable.  Again  he  pleaded  with  the  son  to  tell 
the  cause  of  his  illness.  The  young  man  being  assured  by 
his  father  that  he  must  die,  disclosed  to  his  father  the  hap- 
penings of  that  night,  told  how  he  fainted  when  the  strong 
arms  caught  him,  that  he  supposed  them  to  be  dead  people 
who  detained  him,  and  that  the  medical  students  had 
threatened  his  life  after  he  aroused  from  the  night's  swoon, 
if  he   told  of  their  night's  work. 


The  author  would  like  to  add  that  most  states  and  terri- 
tories have  made  arrangements  to  furnish  medical  schools 
all  dissecting  material  required,  so  that  in  this  day  and  time 
medical  students  do  not  have  to  rob  graves  for  scientific  pur- 
poses. 

42 


A  FOOLISH  DEED. 

BY  T.  R.  MASON,  M.  D.,  SUGAR  GROVE,  O. 

In  October,  1890,  about  2  o'clock  in  the  night,  as  I  was 
returning  from  a  four-mile  trip  through  the  rain,  carrying 
my  lantern  in  one  hand  and  driving  with  the  other,  my  horse 
trotting  along  leisurely,  all  at  once  I  heard  something  sound 
like  a  man  in  great  distress.  Just  at  that  point  I  was  ap- 
proaching near  a  cemetery.  It  did  not  frighten  me  in  the 
least,  still  the  voice,  and  surely  it  was  in  the  graveyard. 
When  I  was  opposite  the  cemetery  I  stopped,  held  up  my 
lantern  to  see  if  I  could  see  any  one.  The  voice  then  seemed 
as  though  it  was  up  on  the  hill  where  there  were  some  rocks, 
and  oh,  what  a  pitiful  noise !  I  then  went  farther  and  stop- 
ped; then  it  seemed  to  be  in  the  graveyard.  I  thought, 
"I  will  go  on  to  the  home  only  a  few  hundred  feet  and  would 
then  hitch  and  get  the  man  there  to  go  up  on  the  hill  with 
me,"  as  was  the  custom  for  people  living  beyond  the  hill  to 
pass  over  it  in  going  home,  or  in  coming  to  town ;  but  by  that 
time  the  noise  had  stopped  and  I  concluded  if  any  one  had 
fallen  over  the  rocks,  he  was  dead  anyway,  as  he  had  quit 
his  hollowing.  Well,  such  a  noise  I  never  heard  before  or 
since !  No,  I  was  not  frightened,  but  thought  some  one  was 
hurt.  About  five  years  after  this  happened,  the  fellow  gave 
it  away:  he  was  in  the  graveyard,  saw  me  coming  and  tried 
to  scare  me. 


WAS  IT  A  GHOST? 

BY  J.  D.  MINARI),  M.  D..   iMLAY  CITY,  MICH. 

I  received  my  early  spiritual  education  from  Christian  par- 
ents who  were  not  very  superstitious  in  their  teaching  and 
I  was  skeptical  in  the  belief  of  phantoms.     All  this  did  not, 

43 


however,  prevent  me  from  hearing  ghost  stories  which  made 
some  impression  on  my  mind;  and  the  following  circum- 
stance was  the  means  of  nearly  shaking  down  the  whole 
foundation. 

This  was  in  the  summer  of  sixty-seven,  after  I  had  re- 
turned from  my  college  life  and  settled  in  a  little  country 
town  to  practice  medicine.  My  sleeping  apartment  was 
quite  a  large  room  over  my  office  and  my  bed  was  located 
in  the  southeast  corner  with  an  open  window  near  the  foot 
of  the  bed.  In  the  northwest  corner  stood  a  table  and  upon 
this  I  had  laid  the  bones  of  a  human  skeleton  I  had  brought 
with   me  from  Ann  Arbor. 

One  night  after  I  had  been  sleeping  quietly  for  some 
hours,  I  was  aroused  by  hearing  a  thumping  sound  in  the 
opposite  end  of  my  room.  I  listened  and  found  that  it  was 
produced  by  the  bones  moving  about  on  the  table.  Horri- 
fied as  I  was,  I  lifted  my  head  from  the  pillow,  and  rested 
on  my  elbow  and  fixed  my  eyes  in  the  direction  from  whence 
I  heard  the  noise,  and  there,  moving  slowly  over  the  table 
I  could  see  a  ghastly  white  figure !  It  would  move  some- 
times without  making  any  noise,  and  then  again  the  dry 
bones  would  knock  together  and  thump  on  the  table.  How 
the  "cold  chills"  ran  up  my  back !  If  that  is  not  a  ghost, 
what  on  earth  is  it?  I  will  try  and  find  out.  So,  in  as 
calm  a  voice  as  I  could  command,  I  called  out,  "Who  are 
you  and  what  do  you  want?"  The  white  figure  raised  itself 
to  its  utmost  height,  sprang  from  the  table  and  came  straight 
for  me,  then  passed  the  foot  of  my  bed  and  out  the  window. 
It  was  the  big  white  cat. 


A  HEADLESS  MAN. 

P.Y  W.   M.   WHEELER,   M.   D.,   OKAY   SUMMIT,   MO. 

One  starlit  night,  while  returning  home  from  a  ■  prof es- 
sional  call,  I  had  occasion  to  pass  through  a  narrow  defile 
just  wide  enough  for  a  wagon  to  drive  through,  there  being 
a. high  bluff  of  limestone  on  one  side  of  the  road  and  a  wide 

44 


deep  creek  on  the  other.  Myself  and  horse  both  tired,  I 
was  jogging  along  at  a  leisurely  gait,  my  mind  occupied  by 
the  various  questions  that  had  confronted  me  during  the 
day,  when  suddenly  my  horse  reared  and  wheeled  around 
and  with  a  snort  of  terror  started  back  in  the  other  direction 
at  breakneck  speed,  from  which  I  succeeded  in  checking 
him  only  after  he  had  run  several  rods. 

Long  experience  and  intimate  association  with  horses  has 
taught  me  to  repose  much  confidence  in  my  mount,  es- 
pecially when  it  is  too  dark  to  see  well  myself.  So,  turn- 
ing about,  I  proceeded  in  the  direction  of  the  defile  again 
cautiously,  because  my  curiosity  and  suspicion  was  aroused; 
slowly,  because  it  required  the  utmost  persuasion  to  in- 
duce my  horse  to  go  forward  at  all.  Looking  ahead  I  saw 
standing  bolt  upright  directly  in  the  road  and  at  its  nar- 
rowest point,  what  appeared  to  be  the  headless  body  of 
a  man  with  arms  stretched  outward  and  upward,  and 
dressed  in  spotless  white.  I  had  always  been  very  skep- 
tical regarding  all  ghost  stories,  but  must  confess  that  at 
sight  of  this  uncanny  thing,  strange  and  unpleasant  shivers 
began  chasing  up  my  spinal  column,  literally  causing  my 
hair  to  stand  on  end  as  I  recalled  the  vague  stories  I  had 
heard  of  a  man  having  been  murdered  in  this  vicinity  years 
before.  There  the  thing  stood  as  still  as  a  statue,  at  twelve 
o'clock  at  night,  barring  the  way  as  effectually  as  a  stone 
wall,  as  my  horse  persistently  refused  to  take  another  step 
forward,  and  there  was  no  way  of  going  around.  Not  know- 
ing what  else  to  do,  I  dismounted,  took  the  rein  over  my 
arm  and  started  to  walk  and  lead  my  horse  in  the  direction 
of  the  monster.  Here  again  my  horse  refused  to  advance 
a  step,  all  the  time  evincing  the  most  intense  fright.  Be- 
coming vexed,  I  hitched  my  horse  to  a  convenient  sapling, 
armed  myself  with  a  heavy  club,  and  swearing  I  would  not 
be  bluffed  by  all  the  headless  ghosts  outside  of  a  graveyard, 
I  advanced,  but  I  must  confess  as  I  drew  nearer  and  the 
thing  appeared  to  grow  more  and  more  like  a  headless  body 
wrapped  in  a  bedsheet.  I  felt  rriy  courage  rapidly  deserting 
me ;  and  just  as  I  was  about  to  retreat  to  my  horse  the  thing 
moved  slowly  and  quietly  out  to  the  side  of  the  road  and 
walked  past  me,  proving  to  be  an  old  white  cow  with  long 

45 


spreading  horns.  Coming  around  the  point  of  the  bluff, 
she  suddenly  saw  myself  and  horse  approaching  from  the 
other  direction,  had  stopped,  raised  her  head  in  surprise,  and 
had,  no  doubt,  been  as  much  interested  in  the  peculiar  ma- 
neuvers of  myself  and  horse,  as  we  had  been  in  hers. 


MY  DELUSION. 

BY   U.  N.   MELLETTE,  M.   D.,   DELAND,   FLORIDA. 

Riding  late  in  a  wearisome  doze, 

Up  before  my  face  a  ghost  arose ; 

''My  hair  followed  suit  and  rose  on  end, 

With  no  one  near  me — none  to  defend." 

But  one  keen  glance  through  the  moon's  pale  charms, 

Showed  button-ball  tree  with   milk-white  arms; 

AVith  arms  outspreading  and  leaning  o'er, 

Simply  that  and  nothing  more. 


AN   ACTUAL   EXPERIENCE. 

BY    F.    E.    SIESS,    M.    D.,    LINECUM,    LA. 

Some  years  ago,  two  men  came  in  the  'night  for  me  to 
go  and  see  a  patient  who  lives  eight  miles  away.  We  left 
my  office  at  about  12  o'clock  on  a  dark  cold  night,  with  a 
drizzling  rain.  About  one  mile  from'  town  stands  an  old 
cemetery  which  has  been  the  burying  ground  for  a  radius  of 
twenty  miles,  since  before  the  war.  Nearly  every  old  set- 
tler has  a  ghost  story  to  tell,  or  some  unaccountable  sight 
and  noise,  which  he  has  seen  or  heard  while  passing  this 
spot.  Sudden  illuminations  and  all  the  dead  dressed  in  float- 
ing white  garments  are  "reliably"  reported  to  have  been 
seen  by  parties  who,  according  to  their  statements,  are  not 
believers  in  ghosts  and  not  at  all  superstitious. 

46 


On  the  south  side  of  this  cemetery  runs  the  public  road, 
which  is  somewhat  of  a  lane  at  that  place,  formed  by  the 
fence  of  a  plantation  on  one  side,  and  the  cemetery  on  the 
other.  All  three  of  us  were  horseback  and  riding  at  a  rapid 
gait.  On  arriving  at  this  lane,  our  horses  suddenly  became 
alarmed,  whirled  and  plunged  forward,  snorting,  rearing  and 
leaping.  Before  we  could  recover  the  reins,  our  horses  had 
traveled  a  considerable  distance.  We  became  separated  dur- 
ing this  excitement,  but  finally  brought  our  horses  together, 
they  still  trembling  with  fright  and  refusing  to  be  urged 
towards  this  lane.  None  of  us  could  imiagine  the  cause  of 
such  a  violent  alarm  on  the  part  of  our  horses,  although  we 
knew  full  well  that  they  would  not  all  three  together  become 
so  suddenly  frightened  without  grave  cause.  It  being  so 
dark  we  saw  nothing  but  the  glimmer  and  somber  aspect  of 
the  largest  tombstone  which  stood  in  the  cemetery.  I  re- 
marked to  my  companions  that  this  surely  was  a  favorable 
time  and  place  for  a  ghost.  At  this  juncture,  my  compan- 
ions proposed  that  we  go  by  the  way  of  the  north  side  of 
the  cemetery.  I  told  them  it  was  absolutely  necessary  to 
learn  the  cause,  as  I  felt  quite  certain  that  my  horse  who 
was  a  gentle  anim,al  and  had  traveled  at  all  liours  of  the 
night  and  in  all  kinds  of  places,  would  not  become  unman- 
ageable from  fright  without  having  seen  something;  and  if 
it  were  a  ghost,  I  for  one  wanted  to  see  it,  as  I  had  never 
seen  one.  We  left  our  horses  behind  and,  revolver  in  hand, 
I  proceeded  to  the  spot,  followed  by  my  companions.  On 
arriving  near  this  lane,  we  stopped  and  peered  around.  Saw 
nothing,  but  heard  the  most  unearthly  groan  which,  taken 
at  that  hour  and  place,  was  enough  to  unnerve  the  bravest 
of  mortals.  My  hair  stood  on  ends,  and  chills  cre])t  over 
me !  Yet  I  realized  the  necessity  of  learning  what  it  was ; 
otherwise  it  would  surely  be  reported  that  we  also  had  seen 
a  ghost.  "Come  on  !"  I  shouted  to  my  companions,  and  pro- 
ceeded for  about  lOO  feet.  The  groans  continuing  at  reg- 
ular intervals,  and  apparently  growing  louder  and  louder, 
as  we  approached  I  stopped  again.  This  time  the  noise 
seemed  to  be  at  my  very  feet !  Yet  I  could  see  nothing 
ahead.  At  this  juncture  one  of  my  companions  remarked, 
"Doctor,  no  use  to  go  any  further;  you  won't  see  anything, 

47 


because  this  noise  is  now  under  the  ground."  I  remarked 
that  it  was  necessar}^  that  we  satisfy  ourselves.  "Oh,  we 
are  perfectly  satisfied ;  so  much  so  that  we  are  perfectly 
willing  to  be  induced  to  return  to  the  horses,"  rejoined  the 
other  in  a  tremulous  tone.  On  advancing  a  little  further 
I  discovered  the  outline  of  a  dark  object  in  the  center  of  the 
road  about  ten  feet  from  me.  It  appeared  to  me  to  be  about 
twelve  feet  in  length  and  about  three  feet  high.  I  advanced 
nearer;  the  groans  seemed  to  become  more  furious,  and  more 
regular.  I  approached  nearer  and  nearer  with  revolver  in 
hand,  pointing  directly  at  the  object.  When  I  reached  the 
side  of  this  object,  I  called  to  my  companions  to  light  a 
match,  while  I  held  the  revolver  in  readiness ;  and  I  was 
horrified  to  find  out  they  had  both  deserted  me;  but  still  did 
not  lose  courage.  With  one  hand  I  struck  a  match,  while 
with  the  other  I  held  mjy  revolver  in  readiness  for  quick 
action.  Imagine  my  surprise  and  joy  on  finding  this  object 
to  be  flesh  and  bones  and  whisky.     It  was  a  man. 

The  man  had  taken  too  much  whisky,  fell  from  his  horse 
and  was  too  drunk  to  rise,  so  he  did  the  next  best  thing — 
went  to  sleep— in  which  condition  we  found  him;  and  a  little 
later  we  found  his  horse.  The  man  was  nearly  frozen  to 
death.     In  fact,  his  groans  were  those  of  dying.. 


THE   HAUNTED  CABIN. 

BY   C.   C.   LANGSDORF,   M.    D.,    NEW   YORK    CITY. 

About  fifteen  years  ago  a  party  of  four,  myself  included, 
started  from  Tacoma,  Wash.,  for  Carbon  Hill,  in  the  same 
state,  on  a  hunting  expedition.  We  arrived  there  late  in 
the  afternoon,  had  our  meals,  and  were  sitting  in  the  re- 
ception room  telling  stories.  A  few  natives  joined  in  and 
the  conversation  led  to  ghosts  and  ghost  stories  of  all  kinds> 
One  of  the  natives  spoke  up  and  told  us  of  a  cabin  in  the 
moimtains  about  ten  miles  away,  which  had  the  reputation 
of    being    haunted.     Furtherrn'ore,    he    knew    nothing    about 

4S 


the  cabin.  We  became  interested,  and  on  making  further 
inquiries  that  evening-  heard  that  some  time  ago,  a  miser 
who  followed  prospecting  for  a  living,  had  built  the  cabin, 
and  lived  there  a  number  of  years  alone.  This  was  all  anyone 
could  tell  us.  Being  a  mining  country,  prospectors  would 
come  and  go,  and  not  make  friends  with  anyone.  As  most 
prospectors  live  alone,  there  was  nothing  in  that  which 
would  lead  to  ghosts.  Resolved  to  learn  more  the  next 
morning,  we  retired  for  the  night. 

The  next  morning  we  started  for  the  cabin ;  it  being  a 
very  rough  country,  we  didn't  reach  the  cabin  before  sun- 
down. Fortune  favored  us,  for  we  shot  some  game  on  the 
way  there ;  a  fire  was  started  and  the  game  cooked.  After 
disposing  of  a  good  supper  an  investigation  was  in  order. 
Inspection  of  the  cabin  showed  nothing  unusual.  A  few 
bunks  in  which  the  miser  evidently  slept,  some  old  pans, 
etc.,  but  nothing  in  the  line  of  ghosts.  After  undoing  our 
knapsacks,  we  sat  down  to  tell  a  few  stories ;  where  in  the 
midst  of  one,  we  were  disturbed  by  what  we  thought  were 
footsteps  outside ;  but  on  going  out  of  doors,  nothing  was 
to  be  seen  there.  Someone  said  he  saw  something  move, 
but  the  rest  thought  it  was  his  imagination.  Later  on,  a 
noise  was  heard  that  seemed  to  emanate  from  the  floor  in 
the  farther  corner  of  the  cabin.  It  was  thought  that  some 
animal  might  have  his  hiding  place  under  the  cabin,  and 
hence  the  noise.  After  a  short  time  it  was  repeated.  This 
time  it  sounded  as  though  someone  was  mumbling.  Sleep 
that  night  was  not  as  sound  as  it  miight  have  been.  We  re- 
solved next  morning  to  ascertain  the  cause  of  the  noise  we 
heard  during  the  night,  and  we  tore  up  the  flooring  and 
found  a  hole  large  enough  to  allow  a  man's  body  to  pass 
through.  A  rope  was  obtained,  and  a  stone  tied  to  the  end 
and  it  was  thrown  into  the  hole;  but  as  the  rope  was  too 
short,  it  was  pulled  up  again.  Someone  suggested  dropping 
a  charge  of  powder  and  listening  for  the  explosion.  By  this 
means  he  thought  he  could  tell  the  depth.  A  few  cartridges 
were  emptied  into  a  can.  then  bound  with  pieces  of  blanket 
and  rope,  a  fuse  attached,  and  then  dropped  into  the  hole. 
A  few  moments  after  we  heard  the  explosion,  not  alone  from 
the   hole,  but   from   the   gulch   below.     It   was   first   thought 

49 


to  be  an  echo,  but  in  a  few  moments  after,  two  mountain 
lions  were  running  down  the  gulch.  We  took  our  guns  and 
followed  in  pursuit.  On  our  way  back,  we  found  an  en- 
trance to  an  old  worked-out  mine.  This  explained  what  we 
thought  was  the  echo.  After  going  into  the  mine,  we  found 
that  the  hole  above  communicated  with  the  mine,  and  was 
nothing  more  than  an  air  shaft.  It  was  evident  that  the 
miser  built  the  cabin  above  the  air  shaft  for  safety.  In 
case  anyone  wanted  to  steal  his  money,  he  would  drop  it  into 
the  mine  below  and  regain  it  some  other  time.  The  air 
shaft  also  explains  the  ghost-like  noise.  The  noise  we  heard 
that  night  was  made  by  the  lions  in  the  mine,  because  the 
next  dav  we  shot  them  and  the  noises  were  ended. 


A  GHOST  STORY. 

BY   H.   D.    MOORE.   M.    P..    XKW   LEXIXOTOX.    PA. 

As  the  humorous  lecturer  remarks.  "Let  us  say  a  few 
words  before  we  begin."  I  was  born  and  brouglit  up  in  the 
neighborhood  in  which  I  now  reside,  and  have  been  prac- 
ticing medicine  for  the  last  twenty-eight  years.  In  my  boy- 
hood days  I  had  an  unele  who  used  to  spend  many  of  his 
winter  evenings  at  our  house,  and  would  tell  us  the  most 
hair-raising  and  blood-curdling  "spook"  and  ghost  stories 
imaginable.  He  did  not  tell  those  stories  as  mere  stories, 
but  as  actual  truths.  There  was  not  a* dark  and  lonely  spot 
on  any  of  the  roads  or  near  a  tumble-down  house  (all  these 
old  deserted  houses  were  built  of  logs)  that  did  not  harbor 
a  spook  or  ghost. 

If  this  uncle  did  not  himself  have  some  terrible  experience 
with  them,  some  of  his  neighbors  did.  Until  I  was  fifteen 
years  of  age,  all  the  gold  in  the  world  would  not  have  been 
sufficient  to  pay  me  to  pass  these  places,  or  even  a  grave- 
yard after  dark.  I  firmly  believed  in  ghosts,  for  nothing  had 
been  neglected  in  my  education  along  that  line. 

Had  my  father  been  living  (he  died  when  I  was  five  years 
old)    he   would   have   taught   me  otherwise,   but   I  think   my 

50 


mother  believed  in  ghosts,  or  she  would  have  taught  us  dif- 
ferently. Whether  she  did  or  did  not,  she  taught  us  that 
the  ghosts  would  not  hurt  good  boys.  After  spending  eight 
years  away  from  home,  teaching  school,  attending  literary 
college  and  medical  college,  I  returned  to  practice  my  pro- 
fession. 

I  passed  over  all  these  "spooky"  roads  at  all  hours  of 
the  night  in  all  kinds  of  weather,  and  often  stopped  and 
looked  around  wishing  to  see  something  uncanny.  As  years 
passed  by  I  forgot  all  about  the  ghosts.  I  feared  nothing; 
but  the  long  rides  in  the  mountains  after  night  were  not 
made  without  a  little  nervousness,  that  a  wildcat  or  ])anther 
might  drop  down  on  me  from  an  overhanging  bough. 

And  an  occasional  squall  from  some  animal  or  other  would 
send  a  peculiar  sensation  up  and  down  my  spine. 

For  the  first  ten  or  twelve  years  I  traveled  altogether  on 
horseback,  and  many  of  my  visits  were  to  families  living  on 
the  mountain.  One  of  my  routes  was  ten  or  eleven  miles 
over  the  mountain  and  in  eight  of  those  miles  there  was  but 
one  house.  Some  of  this  road  ran  by  the  side  of  mountain 
streams  with  laurel  and  rhododendron  on  each  side  and  the 
tops  of  the  beech  trees  meeting  overhead,  so  that  on  a  cloudy 
or  rainy  night  the  darkness  was  intense. 

And  now  for  the  ghost.  I  was  returning  one  starlight 
night  from  one  of  these  mountain  trips.  At  the  base  of  the 
mountain  the  road  crosses  a  stream  by  one  of  those  old 
covered  frame  bridges  about  lOO  feet  in  length.  The  bridge 
is  weatherboarded,  the  roof  shutting  out  all  the  light.  All 
around  each  end  of  the  bridge  there  are  large  spreading  oaks, 
making  the  approaches  to  the  bridge  more  dark  after  night. 
Almost  at  the  same  moment  my  horse's  front  feet  struck  the 
plank  floor,  something  that  sounded  like  a  carriage  struck 
the  other  end  and  advanced  toward  me.  My  horse  then 
threw  up  his  head  and  stopped.  As  the  bridge  was  narrow 
and  so  dark  I  couldn't  see  anything,  I  did  not  care  to  pass 
a  team  in  it,  so  I  turned  and  rode  back  far  enough  (prob- 
ably fifty  feet)    to  make   ample  room  for  the  team   to   pass. 

I  hadn't  waited  more  than  a  few  moments  until  the  noise 
ceased.  I  then  wondered  why  the  team  had  stopped  in  the 
bridge.     I  waited  and  listened  for  a  few  moments,  and  then 

51 


thought  that  possibly  the  team  was  going  in  the  same  di- 
rection that  I  was,  and  had  stopped  in  the  bridge,  and  when 
they  heard  my  horse  coming  they  had  gone  on. 

But  the  road  at  the  other  end  was  stony  and  horses  or 
wheels  would  have  made  a  noise.  But  everything  was  still 
as  death,  save  the  monotonous  murmur  of  the  water.  I 
went  back  to  the  bridge  and  called  out,  "^'Get  out  of  the 
bridge  and  open  the  way,"  but  got  no  answer.  I  then  went 
on  and  neither  saw  nor  heard  anything.  At  the  other  end 
of  the  bridge  the  road  runs  through  low  marshy  meadow 
lands.  The  road  is  wide  and  bordered  on  eacli  side  by  a 
stake-and-rider  fence.  When  I  got  about  two  hundred  yards 
away  from  the  bridge  I  saw  a  white  object  in  the  meadow 
on  the  opposite  sid-e  of  the  fence  from,  me,  coming  toward 
me.  My  horse  saw  it  before  I  did,  for  he  threw  up  his 
head  and  stopped.  It  moved  slowly,  and  at  first  I  thought 
it  was  a  cow,  but  when  it  got  nearer  I  saw  it  was  taller  and 
not    so   long   as    a    cow. 

After  it  passed  me  I  rode  up  to  the  fence  so  that  I  could 
get  a  better  view,  as  I  had  only  seen  it  through  the  spaces 
in  the  staked  fence.  But  it  suddenly  disappeared.  I  turned 
my  horse  and  rode  rapidly  back  about  fifty  yards  to  sec  if  I 
could  get  another  view  of  it.  But  it  had  vanished.  I  looked 
about  to  see  if  there  might  be  any  live  stock  in  the  meadow, 
but  could  see  none.  This  occurred  about  one  o'clock  at 
night  in  the  middle  of  summer. 

I  was  puzzled  to  account  for  the  mysterious  noise  in  the 
bridge  and  for  the  white  object  I  had  seen.  T  had  never 
before  seen  or  heard  anything  that  I  could  not  account  for. 
I  was  determined  to  solve  this.  The  next  day  I  went  back 
to  investigate. 

I  saw  the  man  who  owned  the  meadow  and  told  him  what 
I  had  seen  and  heard.  He  said  that  there  was  no  live  stock 
in  the  meadow,  and  further,  he  had  no  white  ones  on  the 
farm.     But   he   offered   a   very   satisfactory   explanation  : 

He  had  a  demlented  wife,  who  occasionally  left  the  house 
in  her  night  robe,  and  wandered  about  the  place.  At  first 
he  used,  to  watch  her  in  her  wanderings,  but  as  it  made  her 
very  angry  when  she  found  he  watched  her,  he  had  allowed 
her  to  go  and  come  as  she  pleased.     When  she  saw  that  I 

52 


was  watching  her,  and  when  I  rode  back  to  head  her  off,  she 
must  have  started  off  at  right  angles  from  the  road,  and 
got  behind  a  large  maple  tree,  several  of  which  stood  some 
rods  from  the  fence. 

We  then  went  to  the  bridge  and  saw  where  a  flock  of 
sheep  had  been  lying  in  the  bridge,  and  where  they  had  gone 
down  the  embankment  and  under  the  shadow  of  the  trees. 
And   I  am   still  looking  for  a   real  ghost. 


THREE  GHOSTS. 

BY  DR.  L.  MILLISON.    FLAXDREAU,    S.    D. 

Dear  Doctor:  Your  want  for  a  ghost  story  is  quite  a 
novel  affair.  It  reminds  me  of  when  I  was  a  lad  and  in 
Pennsylvania,  the  location  I  cannot  give;  but  the  facts  are 
that  a  ghost  in  the  shape  of  a  man  was  seen  in  a  certain  lo- 
cality and  it  had  frightened  the  entire  community — in  fact, 
it  was  the  talk  for  mliles  and  miles  until  finally  one  man 
made  a  bet  that  there  was  no  ghost  nor  anything  that  would 
harm  anyone.  The  time  came  to  decide  it,  which  was  at 
night ;  and  the  two  brave  men  went  to  the  place  of  fright, 
and  soon  heard  a  sound  of  approaching  danger,  and  there 
they  saw  the  form  of  a  man  in  white.  Soon  it  began  to  rise 
until  it  was  seen  from  twenty  to  thirty  feet  in  the  air 
and  no  visible  means  of  ascent.  It  would  be  absurd  to 
say  that  the  men  were  not  frightened,  for  they  were ;  and  yet 
they  wished  to  solve  the  mystery,  so  they  sat  down  and  re- 
mained until  morning,  when  to  their  surprise  the  ghost  was 
yet  dangling  among  the  treetops,  and  on  investigation,  they 
found  that  it  was  only  an  imitation  of  a  man  with  a  rope  at- 
tached, and  fastened  to  a  treetop,  and  a  man,  or  boy,  was 
near  by  who  drew  it  up  on  the  approach  of  footmen,  and 
any  whom  they  wished  to  frighten. 

This  reminds  me  of  a  case  where  I  was  connected.  I  lived 
in  a  house  that  was  said  to  be  haunted ;  the  facts  are  as 
follows :     A  noise,  like  the  sound  of  one  in  agony,  was  fre- 

53 


quently  heard  in  one  room  and  mostly  at  night.  I  was 
frightened  at  it  on  first  hearing  it,  but,  being  a  man  and 
fearing  nothing,  I  decided  to  solve  it.  When  the  bedroom 
door  was  open  I  heard  it  more  plainly.  I  was  certain  that 
no  one  was  near.  Then  I  placed  my  hand  on  the  wall  from 
whence  it  came  and  I  found  it  would  subside.  I  soon  found 
a  crevice  in  the  wall,  and  the  wind,  when  from  the  north, 
came  through  the  crack,  and  passing  over  a  strip  of  wall 
paper,  produced  the  sound.  I  removed  the  bit  of  paper,  and 
my  haunted  house  was  a  thing  of  the  past. 

Some  thirty  years  ago,  and  in  Jefferson  county,  Pa.,  was 
a  field  where  a  man  was  seen  every  night  and  without  a 
head.  The  sight  of  it  frightened  everyone  who  attempted 
to  cross  that  field,  so  much  that  the  people  went  one  mile 
out  of  their  way  in  order  to  avoid  it;  until  one  night  Mr. 
John  Hilderbrand  was  passing  and,  being  tired,  decided  to 
cut  the  road  short  by  crossing  this  haunted  field.  He  had 
gone  but  a  short  distance,  when  lo  and  behold !  Before  him 
and  not  far  away  stood  the  dreaded  ghost.  Well,  John  was 
a  fighting  man  and  feared  neither  man  nor  beast ;  so  on  he 
went,  and  the  nearer  he  approached  the  ghost  the  more  he 
trembled ;  but  he  would  not  turn  aside.  The  ghost  had  its 
arms  extended  as  if  in  the  act  of  grasping;  but  it  had  no 
head.  Mr.  Hilderbrand,  in  relating  it  to  me,  said  he  thought 
his  time  had  come,  and  he  closed  his  eyes,  ran  at  it  and 
struck  it ;  but  as  soon  as  he  struck,  he  fell ;  and  discovered 
to  his  surprise  that  he  had  struck  a  stub  of  a  tree  with  two 
limbs  near  the  top  and  about  the  height  of  a  tall  man.  Mr. 
H.  had  a  badly  bruised  fist  but  he  felt  satisfied  that  there 
was  no  such  a  thing  as  a  ghost. 

I  have  had  similar  experiences,  and  never  yet  have  I  found 
anything  to  harm  me  or  anyone. 


54 


THE   SPRINGLANDS   GHOST. 

BY  BEX.  II.  BRODNOX,    M.    D.,    BRODNOX,    LA. 

When  a  boy  of  twelve  years  I  had  one  evening  turned 
the  cows  out  of  the  meadow  and  taken  a  little  time  to  fish 
at  the  river.  This  was  in  1844  i^^  Connecticut.  I  was  re- 
minded by  its  getting  pretty  dark,  that  it  was  time  to  fol- 
low the  cows  home.  I  started  at  a  trot,  and  got  about  half 
way  over  the  road  that  ran  through  a  springlands  pasture, 
when  looking  to  my  left  about  twenty-five  or  thirty  feet  over 
the  water,  I  saw  what  seemed  to  me  to  be  a  woman  dressed 
in  pure  white  shining  robes  similar  to  the  present  lace  wed- 
ding styles,  a  veil  floating  from  her  head  down  to  the  water. 
It  seemed  to  turn  partly  around  and  back,  as  in  dancing, 
with  a  slow  graceful  motion.  Of  course  "a  ghost !"  was  the 
word,  and  I  only  touched  the  high  places  on  my  race  home. 
Between  fright  and  running  with  loss  of  breath,  I  could 
not  for  some  time  tell  my  teacher,  with  whom  I  was  living, 
what  was  the  matter.  The  old  man  remarked,  "well,  we  will 
see  what  it  was  in  the  morning." 

So  we  started  down  with  the  cows  to  put  them  in  the 
meadow,  and  came  to  the  place  where  I  had  seen  the  "vis- 
ion." We  waded  out  and  found  a  large  catfish  putrefying; 
the  bubbles  of  the  phosphoreted  hydrogen  still  rising  to  the 
surface.  Here  the  old  gentleman  read  me  a  lecture  on  chem- 
istry, that  "putrefaction  produced  this  gas  which,  coming  in 
contact  with  the  air,  ignited,  and  a  light  phosphorescent 
cloud  was  the  result."  It  satisfied  me;' but  to  this  day 
the  beautiful,  graceful,  shining  white  figure  is  as  distinct 
as  when  I  saw  it  fifty  odd  years  ago. 


55 


A  FEW  AUTHENTIC  STORIES. 

BY  J.  L.   SHORT,  M.   D.,   OKLAHOMA  CITY.   OKLA. 

A  HAUNTED  HOUSE. 

In  the  year  1876,  I  was  practicing  medicine  in  Dyer  coun- 
ty, Tenn.,  and  was  boarding  with  a  lady  of  the  romantic  and 
superstitious  variety.  She  delighted  in  reading  novels,  and 
kept  all  the  lonesome  crowing  chickens,  and  peculiar  lowing 
cows,  she  could  get  hold  of.  She  had  raised  eight  children, 
and  taught  them  to  believe  in  ghosts,  spooks,  signs,  tokens, 
voices,  and  other  curious  things.  I  had  not  stopped  at  her 
house  long  till  she  informed  me  that  a  certain  room  stand- 
ing about  100  feet  from  her  dwelling,  which  had  been  used 
for  a  store,  was  haunted.  The  entire  family  was  positive 
that  some  mysterious  spirit  inhabited  this  building.  George, 
a  grown  son,  had  seen  it  bending  over  his  bed  in  the  form 
of  an  angel;  and  Watch,  the  old.  dog,  had  seen  it  at  various 
times,  and  had  barked  at  it  almost  daily  for  nearly  a  year. 
When  she  related  all  the  particulars  concerning  George  and 
the  angel,  I  enquired  if  he  ever  drank  anything.  She  was 
indignant  at  my  question,  and  informed  me  that  he  never 
drank  anything  when  at  town  except  water,  and  not  much 
of  that ;  and  by  watching  him  a  few  days,  I  saw  things  which 
corroborated  her  statement ;  because  when  George  returned 
from  town  he  seemed  exceedingly  dry,  and  kept  his  baby 
brother  busy  carrying  him  water.  After  hearing  their  blood- 
curdling stories,  I  proposed  that  I  be  allowed  to  occupy  the 
haunted  house  and  try  to  solve  the  mystery.  This  was 
readily  agreed  to,  and  I  invited  George  to  share  the  large 
room  with  me.  He  accepted,  and  two  beds  were  arranged 
therein,  and  we  retired  at  ease. 

THE  ANGEL  CAME. 

Nothing  strange  occurred  for  a  few  days,  but  finally 
George's     angel     came     through     the     window,     and     with 

56 


clasped  hands,  bent  over  him  a  moment,  when  George 
said  to  it:  "In  the  name  of  God,  what  do  you  want?" 
Then  the  angel  departed  without  speaking.  George  then 
informed  me  what  had  transpired,  and  I  at  once  began  a 
careful  examination  of  his  nervous  system,  and  found  that 
he  was  laboring  under  an  attack  of  delirium  tremens,  and 
that  these  imps  were  caused  by  the  large  amount  of  intoxi- 
cants which  he  drank  at  night.  But  they  would  probably 
have  had  the  same  effect  if  taken  in  the  davtime. 


THE  DOG'S  GHOST. 

The  next  thing  to  solve  was  the  dog  problem.  Why 
did  old  Watch  bark  so  when  in  this  room  alone,  and  never 
when  any  person  was  with  him?  I  waited  with  this  investi- 
gation until  Watch  had  occasion  to  again  interview  his 
ghost,  but  did  not  have  to  wait  long,  because  next  day, 
while  sitting  in  the  porch  I  saw  him  enter  the  room,  and 
all  the  growling  and  barking  that  I  had  ever  heard  was 
nothing  compared  with  the  fuss  that  Watch  made !  He 
seemed  to  be  fighting  some  monstrous  enemy  which  he  could 
not  conquer.  He  barked  in  different  languages,  and  seemed 
to  be  three  or  four  dogs.  I  then  stepped  to  the  door,  which 
was  only  slightly  ajar,  opened  it  wide  and  walked  in.  Soon 
as  I  entered.  Watch  ceased  to  bark,  but  seemed  much  Avor- 
ried  over  the  great  battle  that  he  had  just  participated  in. 
I  then  resumed  my  seat  in  the  porch,  to  waft  for  further 
developments.  Soon  Watch  slipped  his  nose  in  between 
the  door  and  the  casing,  and  passed  in  and  seemed  to  again 
attack  his  enemy.  This  time  I  slipped  up  carefully,  peeped 
in  at  the  small  opening  in  the  door  and  saw  Watch  at  his 
work.  He  was  back  in  a  dark  corner  growling,  barking, 
frothing  and  snapping  at  what  he  took  to  be  a  very  ugly 
dog.  It  was  his  own  image  reflected  by  a  large  window- 
pane,  which  sat  on  the  floor  in  the  corner,  and  the  image 
could  onlv  be  seen  well  when  the  door  was  nearlv  closed. 


57 


A  CURIOUS  LIGHT. 

When  I  was  eighteen  years  old,  my  sister  and  I  made  a 
trip  on  horseback  to  church,  three  miles  east  of  our  home. 
When  services  were  over,  about  9  o'clock  in  the  night,  we 
started  home,  and  after  going  two  miles,  we  noticed  ahead  of 
us  what  seemed  to  be  a  lantern,  and  were  pleased  to  know 
that  we  were  overtaking  some  friends  who  had  a  light,  be- 
cause it  was  a  dark  night.  We  rode  a  little  faster,  in  order 
to  catch  up;  but  our  friend,  or  friends,  seemed  to  travel  as 
fast  as  we  did.  Soon  we  came  to  where  the  road  crooked 
to  the  left,  and  greatly  to  our  surprise,  the  lantern  kept  on 
in  a  straight  direction.  I  remarked  that  if  that  light  is  a 
lantern,  the  person  carrying  it  pays  no  attention  to  the  road, 
but  goes  straight  on,  regardless  of  brush.  Soon  we  came  to 
a  small  stream,  and  instead  of  the  light  remaining  near  the 
ground,  it  continued  on  a  level ;  we  then  agreed  that  it  was 
no  lantern ;  for  in  crossing  the  valley,  it  was  fifty  feet  or  more 
above  the  surface.  Then  we  suggested  marsh  lights,  me 
teors  and  everything  of  that  nature  we  could  think  of.  After 
we  had  crossed  the  valley  and  were  ascending  the  hill,  the 
light  which  had  already  frightened  us  considerably,  seemed 
to  leave  our  road  and  settle  down  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile 
to  our  right.  We  stopped  and  gazed  at  it  till  we  were  both 
positive  that  it  had  fallen,  not  to  rise  again;  so  I  told  my 
sister,  that  if  she  would  wait  there,  I  would  go  to  it  and 
ascertain  what  it  was.  She  readily  agreed,  because  she  was 
in  reality  much  braver  than  myself.  I  rode  rapidly  toward 
the  light,  and  it  grew  brighter  as  I  approached.  Finally  I 
arrived  at  the  mysterious  object  and  found  that  it  was  a 
burning  stump. 


THE  DISSECTING  ROOM. 

Very   few   ghost    stories   come   from    the    dissecting   room, 
for   the    reason    that    the    living    occupants    thereof    are    stu- 

58 


dents  of  science;  and  they  are  there  for  investigating,  and 
not  for  the  purpose  of  deluding  anybody  else,  nor. for  being 
deluded  themselves.  As  a  rule,  the  medical  student  is  less 
superstitious  than  any  other ;  and  I  have  to  confess  that 
some  men  in  medical  schools  become  skeptical.  The  knowl- 
edge of  anatomy,  physiology  and  psychology  leads  some  to 
even  doubt  that  man  has  a  soul.  I  once  received  a  very  high 
compliment  from  a  minister  of  the  Gospel  on  account  of 
my  reply  to  a  college  professor  who  stated  that  he  had  made 
the  human  body  his  study  for  thirty  years,  and  had  dis- 
sected a  large  number  of  them,,  and  had  never  found  in  any 
of  them  a  trace  of  a  soul,  much  less  a  soul  itself;  and  there- 
fore he  did  not  believe  that  man  had  a  soul.  My  reply  was 
as  follows :  "Professor,  you  have  always  looked  in  the 
wrong  place  for  the  soul.  If  you  want  to  find  a  living  soul 
you  must  look  for  it  in  a  living  subject ;  because  souls  do 
not  hide  around  in  dead  bodies,  but  always  depart  from  the 
body  at  death,  without  leaving  any  traces  therein.  The  only 
way  to  locate  a  man's  soul  after  the  death  of  his  body  is 
by  reviewing  his  history,  his  character,  his  life.  They  are. 
the  traces  that  always  point  in  the  direction  of  his  departed 
soul."  The  wise  professor  then  said :  "I  had  never  thought 
about  that.     I  guess  you  are  right." 

I  beg  pardon  for  departing  from  my  subject.  It  is  not 
my  purpose  to  treat  of  theology,  but  merely  to  relate  a 
little- ghost  story. 

In  the  winter  of  i884,while  a  student  in  a  medical  college, 
one  cold  night  when  all  the  other  students  had  left  the  build- 
ing, I  remained  till  eleven  o'clock,  as  I  was  anxious  to  finish 
my  part.  There  were  several  cadavers  stretched  out  on  nar- 
row tables,  with  white  sheets  over  them,  as  it  was  customary 
for  each  student  to  cover  his  subject  with  a  sheet,  and  turn 
his  gas  light  out  before  leaving.  All  lights  in  the  large 
room  had  been  turned  out  except  the  one  that  I  was  working 
by.  This  gave  the  room  a  very  lonesome  appearance,  as  it 
was  on  the  third  floor,  and  I  had  ^  long  and  dark  stairway 
to  descend  in  case  it  should  be  necessary  for  me  to  depart 
suddenly.  But  I  was  not  in  the  least  afraid,  because  I  had 
already  practised  medicine  several  years,  and  had  learned 
that  it  is  not  the  dead   men  who  do  harm,  but  the   living 

59 


ones.  But  the  extreme  silence,  and  extreme  odor  also,  in 
that  room,  set  me  to  thinking  about  ghosts ;  and  suddenly 
it  appeared  to  me  that  I  saw  the  sheet  on  one  of  the  cadavers 
move  a  little.  Then  I  thought,  "How  foolish  of  me  to  allow 
myself  to  have  such  an  imagination !"  Just  then  the  sheet 
wiggled  again,  and  I  didn't  do  a  thing  but  stand  up  and  take 
a  straight  gaze  at  it.  Then  I  saw  it  plainer  then  ever  and 
was  sure  some  living  object  was  under  the  sheet.  At  first 
it  appeared  to  me  that  probably  one  of  the  students  had  been 
foolish  enough  to  place  himself  there  to  scare  me ;  then  I 
remembered  a  story  that  I  had  read,  of  a  student  who  was 
frightened  from  the  dissecting  room  by  a  rat  which  had 
gained  access  to  a  subject,  and  I  walked  to  the  table  and 
raised  the  sheet,  and  a  little  "college  mouse"  jumped  out 
and  ran  away.  I  never  thought  much  more  of  the  incident, 
and  never  so  much  as  told  my  room  mate,  partly,  perhaps, 
because  I  was  afraid  some  of  the  boys  might  make  a  joke 
of  it  and  repeat  it  at  my  expense.  While  I  was  not  fright- 
ened in  the  least,  that  was  my  last  night  to  remain  alone  in 
a   dissecting   room. 

In  the  case  of  the  student  and  the  rat,  which  I  have  just  re- 
ferred to,  it  is  said  that  the  student  rushed  for  the  door,  and 
seeing  the  rat  jump  out,  offered  to  swear  that  the  "stiff" 
threw  something  at  him  as  h,e  made  his  escape,  and  actually 
followed  him  to  the  door. 

Possibly  the  story  is  true,  but  I  have  never  met  a  physi- 
cian, or  medical  student  who  was  afraid  of  a  dead  bodv. 


60 


MY  ENCOUNTER  WITH  A  LION. 


The  only  really  good 
scare  that  I  ever  had  dur- 
ing my  practice,  occurred 
in  1878,  in  Pulaski  county, 
Mo.  It  took  place  shortly 
after  a  circus  had  passed 
through  there,  and  a  lion 
was  said  to  have  escaped, 
and  was  roaming  at  large 
in  the  hills  of  the  Gascon- 
ade river.  ,  I  was  called 
one  dark  night  to  see  a  patient  who  lived  near  the  river  about 
six  miles  from  the  town  where  I  had  my  shingle  out.  As 
I  returned,  while  passing  through  the  "narroAV  defiles  of  the 
hill,"  I  heard  the  footsteps  of  some  beast  coming  down  tht 
steep  hill  toward  me.  My  horse  became  frightened  and 
made  an  effort  to  run,  and  I  would  gladly  have  given  the 
reins,  had  I  been  sure  of  sta3ang  with  him,  but  I  thought  it 
better  to  hold  him  in,  than  to  be  left  alone  to  battle  with 
a  huge  lion.  I  held  my  hand  above  my  eyes  to  shade  them, 
and  caught  a  glimpse  of  a  real  lion  coming  toward  me  on  his 
hind  feet,  with  both  fore  feet  raised  above  his  head  ready 
to  sink  his  claws  into  my  flesh  !  I  lost  no  time  in  adjusting 
myself  in  the  saddle,  and  slackened  the  reins,  hoping  that 
my  horse  would  do  the  rest ;  and  just  at  that  moment  the 
beast  uttered  one  of  the  fiercest  growls  that  I  had  ever 
heard;  the  first  half  of  which  was  the  roar  of  a  lion,  but  the 
last  half  developed  into  the  squeaking  voice  of  an  old  jenny 
which  was  hunting  for  company.  I  survived  the  terrible 
shock,  but  it  has  always  been  a  mystery  to  me  how  that  old 
jenny  made  her  ears  appear  so  much  like  a  lion's  paws. 


61 


THE    HAUNTED    SCHOOL    HOUSE. 


About  the  middle  of  the 
nineteenth  century  there 
were  several  school  houses 
in  Missouri  that  were  said 
to  be  haunted.  At  that 
time  most  of  the  schools 
there  were  maintained  by 
private  subscriptions.  The 
patrons  subscribing-  $i  per 
month  to  a  teacher  for  each 
child  he  expected  to  send.  When  enough  had  been  subscribed 
to  justify  the  teacher  in  taking  the  school,  the  patrons  would 
set  a  day  to  meet  and  build  a  school  house.  On  the  morn- 
ing for  the  task  one  or  two  men  would  arrive  with  a  load  of 
boards  that  they  had  made  out  of  an  oak  tree.  These  boards 
were  usually  about  six  inches  wide,  and  three  feet  long. 
Another  man  would  take  a  load  of  rough  lime  stone,  and  the 
others  would  have  an  axe  apiece.  By  noon  they  would  have 
the  wall  of  the  new  building  up,  which  consisted  of  logs  that 
they  had  cut  down  and  hewn  on  both  sides.  The  floor  was 
made  of  puncheons,  which  were  made  by  splitting  the  trunks 
of  trees  into  halves  and  hewing  the  split  side  to  a  smooth 
surface,  and  the  seats  were  made  in  the  same  way.  except 
they  had  holes  bored  in  them)  and  sticks  driven  therein  for 
legs.  In  those  days  it  was  an  extra  fine  school  house  that  had 
a  plank  floor,  plank  seats,  a  glass  window,  or  lime  in  its 
cracks.  The  roof  was  not  nailed  on,  except  in  the  more 
wealthy  districts,  but  was  held  down  by  long  poles  that  were 
called  'Sveights".  The  writing  desk  was  either  a  long  plank, 
or  a  puncheon  resting  against  the  wall  on  pins  of  wood  driv- 
en into  the  wall,  and  the  window  was  made  by  sawing  a  log 
out  just  over  the  desk.  The  fire  place  was  made  of  rough 
stones  and  mud.  while  the  chimney  was  built  of  sticks  of 
wood  and  the  cracks  filled  with   mud  like  the  cracks  in  the 


62 


house.  There  are  a  few  other  little  details  that  I  could 
describe,  but  they  are  similar  to  the  above,  and  I  need  not 
take  time  and  space  to  mention  them.  Every  thing  con- 
cerning the  school  tallied  very  much  with  the  building  and 
the  way  in  which  it  was  supported.  The  method  of  teach- 
ing was  usually  the  "Blab"  variety.  That  is,  the  pupils  all 
spelled  and  read  out  aloud  while  studying,  which  sounded 
like  a  large  collection  of  sheep,  hogs,  and  geese  all  bleating, 
squealing  and  hollowing  at  once.  The  school  plays  were 
different  then  to  what  they  are  now.  Baseball,  football,  etc., 
had  not  been  introduced  into  that  country,  but  the  boys 
played  bullpen,  townball,  cat,  pepper,  baste,  etc ;  while  the 
girls  played  rollyhole,  riiilabright,  pus-I-want-your  corner 
and  other  such  things.  The  play  ground  for  boys  was  on 
a  dift'erent  side  of  the  house  from  that  of  the  girls,  and  it 
was  a  disgrace  for  a  boy  to  be  found  hanging  around  the 
girl's  play  ground. 

It  was  customary  to  build  the  school  house  in  tlie  center 
of  the  district,  regardless  of  water  supply,  which  often  made 
it  necessary  to  carry  water  a  half  mile  or  more,  as  no  facili- 
ties existed  at  that  time  for  making  cheap  wells,  as  we  have 
now.  In  fact,  the  wealthier  class  even  would  not  venture  to 
sink  a  well  anywhere,  until  some  old  water  witch  had  taken 
his  forked  switch  and  located  a  good  stream  at  the  very 
spot  where  the  well  was  to  be.  It  was  in  an  institution  of 
this  kind  where  the  writer  received  his  common  school  edu- 
cation, which  accounts  for  his  common  abik'ty. 

But  the  school  house  where  I  attended  was  some  better 
than  the  average.  Its  cracks  were  pointed  with  lime,  and  it 
had  a  glass  window  containing  four  panes  8xio  inches,  be- 
sides the  long  window  at  the  writing  desk  was  filled  with 
glass  the  same  size.  It  had  to  be  up-to-date,  because  my 
father,  E.  L.  Short,  and  John  L.  West.  Henry  Brockman, 
Paulen  Gardner,  Eelix  Bond,  David  Jarrett,  W.  Ponder  and 
a  few  other  old  pioneers  had  large  families  and  they  were 
interested  in  furnishing  their  girls  and  boys  the  best  oppor- 
tunity for  an  education.  But  we  had  to  carry  water  from  a 
spring  about  half  a  mile  away  and  we  used  a  large  amount  of 
it,  because  the  very  fact  that  it  was  scarce  caused  most  of 
the  children  to  feel  very  dry.     The  spring  was  located  under 

63 


a  bluff  that  was  covered  with  heavy  timber,  and  was  nearly 
a  mile  from  any  dwelling  or  farm,  which  made  it  a  very 
lonesome  place.  The  height  of  the  bluff  and  the  peculiar 
shape  of  the  earth  at  that  point,  caused  the  sound  waves  to 
rebound  back  from  the  bluff  to  the  spring  when  any  one 
was  speaking  there,  and  this  echo  gave  rise  to  the  report 
that  "a  voice"  at  the  spring  repeated  every  word  spoken  by 
those  visiting  it.  From  that  the  story  was  exaggerated  and 
some  of  the  pupils  told  that  they  had  seen  mysterious  ob- 
jects. Some  saw  a  man  without  a  head,  and  others  saw  a 
dog  standing  on  the  small  end  of  his  tail  with  a  human  hand 
in  his  mouth.  While  these  stories  were  only  manufactured 
by  a  few  funny  boys  and  girls  for  their  own  amusement, 
they  had  a  bad  effect  in  general,  because  many  little  child- 
ren were  afraid  to  go  to  the  spring  for  a  drink,  and  almost 
suffered  for  want  of  water,  and  the  superstitious  class  spread 
these  false  reports  throughout  the  entire  community  and  ad- 
vertised our  beautiful  school  site  in  a  very  unfavorable 
way. 

To  add  to  the  misery  of  the  little  frightened  children,  our 
teacher  Avas  an  old  fogy  fellow  who  believed  in  dreams, 
voices,  ghosts,  spooks  and  signs,  himself.  Certainly  that 
would  be  the  character  of  a  man  who  would  teach  a  '"'loud 
school",  as  he  called  it.  He  was  old,  and  must  have  attend- 
ed school,  if  at  all,  a  way  back  in  the  eighteenth  century. 
He  taught  us  that  the  earth  was  on  a  rock,  not  that  it  rested 
on  a  stone,  but  that  it  rocked  from  east  to  west  like  a  cradle. 
He  claimed  that  it  rocked  to  the  east  in  the  day  time  and 
back  to  the  west  in  the  night.  It  is  not  to  be  supposed  that  he 
knew  anything  about  antiseptics  and  asepsis,  because  such 
words  Avere  not  in  use  then,  but  I  censure  him  for  not  pos- 
sessing the  ]~)roximal  element  to  godliness — cleanliness.  I 
shall  not  try  to  repeat  all  of  his  astonishing  practices,  for 
they  are  too  numerous  and  ridiculous  to  describe  here,  but 
will  name  three.  When  he  came  to  my  father's  house  to 
stay  all  night,  as  it  was  the  custom  for  teachers  to  visit 
among  the  patrons,  my  dear  old  mother,  who  was  an  advo- 
cate of  "foot  washing"  when  certain  strangers  came  about, 
offered  him  a  bowl  of  warm  water  at  bed  time  and  asked  if 
he  wished  a  nice  foot  bath,  to  which  he  replied,  "No!  no!  it's 

64 


not  been  a  month  yet  since  I  washed  my  feet  good  and 
put  on  new  socks."  Next  morning  father  conducted  him 
to  our  spring  where  we  had  a  nice  pool  of  running  water 
in  which  we  usually  washed  our  hands  and  faces.  The  old 
teacher  made  an  effort  to  stoop  down  to  the  water,  but  could 
not  reach  it  owing  to  what  he  called  "a  crick"  in  his  back. 
Father  then  told  him  they  would  go  to  the  house  and  have  a 
bowl  prepared  for  him,  when  he  exclaimed,  "Oh!  no!  no!  I 
just  washed  good  yesterday  morning  at  Mr.  AVest's." 

One  other  practice,  for  which  he  received  his  final  dis- 
missal certificate  by  the  Board,  was  as  follows:  He  had  a 
bad  felon  on  his  thumb,  and  kept  a  poultice  of  rotten  pota- 
toes on  it,  and  had  used  the  same  old  rag  around  that  thumb 
till  its  real  color  could  not  be  identified.  When  his  poultice 
got  dry,  his  thumb  would  pain,  and  the  only  way  to  get  re- 
lief was  to  immerse  it  in  cold  water  for  a  few  minutes.  So 
he  would  take  a  gourdful  of  water  (for  we  used  gourds  then 
instead  of  dippers  and  tumblers  as  we  do  now),  and  he  would 
hold  that  old  "felonious"  thumb  in  the  water  till  easy,  and 
then  pour  the  water  back  into  the  bucket  for  those  haunted 
children  to  drink. 

Now,  my  dear  reader,  don't  dispute  this,  for  it  is  true, 
and  was  proven,  and  he  was  discharged.  I  witnessed  this 
myself  when  I  was  but  five  years  old,  but  the  incident  is  as 
fresh  in  my  mind  as  though  it  had  transpired  yesterday.  I 
can,  and  will,  gladly  furnish  the  names  and  addresses  of 
other  pupils,  men  and  women  now  of  course,  who  saw  the 
same.  Furthermore,  that  teacher  would  never  allow  a  child 
to  throw  any  water  out  after  taking  a  drink,  but  required 
all  to  pour  the  remainder  back  into  the  bucket,  as  water  was 
scarce,  and  the  spring  was  haunted. 

While  the  stories  about  the  spring  being  haunted  were 
all  false,  and  had  no  foundation  except  that  the  bluff  caused 
an  echo  of  voices,  that  school  house  really  did  become  haunt- 
ed several  years  later,  and  I  heard  the  ghost  and  saw  it  with 
my  own  eyes. 

It  was  in  1863,  during  the  civil  war,  when  all  the  men 
were  off  in  the  army  on  one  side  or  the  other,  and  all  the 
larger  boys  were  hid  in  corn  shocks,  straw  stacks,  cellars, 
and   other   such   places,  on   acount  of  the  false   report  being 

65 


circulated  that  both  sides  were  taking  all  boys  over  twelve 
years  of  age  for  messenger  boys.  Owing  to  such  state  of 
affairs,  the  number  of  pupils  in  the  few  schools  that  existed 
there  then,  was  limited,  and  instead  of  school  being  a  place 
to  play,  as  was  the  case  before  the  war^  it  was  a  lonesome 
place  where  only  the  girls  and  a  few  small  boys  were  taught 
by  a  lady.  It  could  not  be  otherwise  than  lonesome,  because 
fathers,  brothers  and  friends  were  away  from  home  to  fight, 
and  we  could  frequently  hear  the  roar  of  cannons  in  the 
distance,  which  reminded  us  that  our  dear  ones  would  prob- 
ably fall,  while  their  helpless  women  and  children  were  left 
at  home  without  money  or  anything  else  to  live  on  except 
what  they  themselves  worked  for,  and  only  those  in  good  cir- 
cumstances could  afford  rye  coffee,  while  poor  people  had  to 
brown  corn  meal  and  make  coft'ee  of  that.  Such  was  the 
condition  in  the  rural  districts  of  Missouri  at  that  time. 
Now,  my  oldest  sister,  Drushane.  had  grown  to  be  a  teacher, 
and  was  employed  to  teach  our  school  under  these  circum- 
stance, and  while  she  was  not  superstitious  in  the  least,  she 
was  watchful  and  sensitive. 

One  dark,  gloomy  day,  while  only  about  a  dozen  of  we 
chlidren  were  sitting  around  her  thinking  over  our  lessons 
(for  she  would  not  teach  a  "blab",  or  ^'loud*'  school).  All 
were  perfectly  quiet,  when  we  heard  a  most  dismal  noise! 
It  was  low.  but  we  could  all  hear  it,  and  it  seemed  to  be  in 
the  house.  The  tone  was'  like  this :  "Oh-o-o !"  and  was 
repeated  about  once  in  every  three  seconds.  All  the  children 
looked  at  their  teacher,  and  she  looked  at  them.  Then  she 
said :  "Children,  don't  be  frightened,  for  it's  only  some  one 
trying  to  scare  us!  We'll  find  him  and  run  him  off!"  But 
her  eyes  became  very  prominent,  she  turned  pale,  and  made 
several  eft'orts  to  swallow,  I  then  knew  that  she 
was  afraid,  and  that  made  me  the  same  way ;  but 
she  managed  to  control  us  perfectly,  and  set  us 
about  in  search  for  the  one  who  would  dare  to 
molest  a  little  school  of  helpless  children.  We  peeped  through 
the  floor,  looked  on  top  of  the  house,  under  the  seats  (or 
benches  rather),  and  found  nothing.  But  that  awful  sound 
continued.  Then  our  teacher  thought  of  the  chimney,  and 
all  took"  a  look  up  that,  and  while  we  could  see  nothing,  we 

66 


heard  the  sound  much  plainer  there,  and  after  we  were  con- 
vinced that  there  was  nothing  in  the  chimney,  all  went  out 
to  view  the  outside;  and  the  brave  little  teacher,  with  her 
heart  apparently  in  her  throat,  climbed  up  till  she  could  see 
into  the  warm  gutter  between  the  chimney  and  the  house. 
Then  she  suddenly  jumped  back  and  down  and  exclaimed, 
"I've  found  him !  It's  an  old  cat  up  there  asleep !"  You  may 
suppose  we  lost  no  time  in  getting  that  old  gray,  cat  out  of 
that  gutter,  and  he  left  on  a  double-quick,  amidst  a  shower  of 
stones,  chips  and  sticks.  So  we  had  no  more  cat-snoring  in 
that  school.  Nor  did  we  see  or  hear  any  more  ghosts 
there. 


A  LIVE  GHOST  IN  BROAD  DAY-LIGHT. 


When  I  was  a  small 
boy,  my  oldest  brother, 
who  was  then  about  i8 
years  old,  was  sent  on  an 
errand,  and  had  to  go  on 
horseback  about  six 
miles.  A\nien  returning 
home,  while  passing 
through  the  river  bottom 
where  the  timber  was  heavy  and  dense,  he  noticed  an  object 
a  few  feet  from  his  road,  which  resembled  a  woman  with 
a  \yhite  ruffled  night  cap  and  long  gown,  sitting  on  a  log 
with  bare  feet  projecting  from  under  her  white  robe.  At 
first,  he  thought  it  only  an  optical  delusion;  but  after  rub- 
bing his  eyes  and  taking  the  second  look,  he  could  see  its 
eyes  move  in  the  direction  that  he  was  going.  He  was 
not  truly  a  coward,  but  rather  venturesome  at  times;  espe- 
cially, when  he  had  a  good  horse  under  him  to  depend  on. 
So  he  resolved  to  make  a  further  test  of  this  strange  piece 
of  ghostship,  by  speaking  to  it;  and  said  in  a  very  kind  and 
polite   manner,   "good-evening  madam."     No  words,  came   in 

67 


response  to  his  courtesy,  but  the  figure  rose  and  extended 
two  white  hands  toward  him.  This  is  all  that  my  brother 
wanted  to  see  at  one  time,  so  he  brought  his  hickory  switch 
down  on  his  pony  with  an  alarming  effect,  and  soon  reached 
home  where  he  related  his  startling  discovery,  when  Father 
laughed  and  said :  "It  was  Mr.  Albertson's  wife !  She  is 
insane,    and   goes  where   she   wishes:   but   is   harmless." 


POLITICS    AND    MEDICINE. 


tive  practice  in    one    of    the 


It  is  not  the  object  of  this 
book  to  teach  or  to  advise 
physicians ;  but  I  desire  to 
give  the  student  of  medicine 
a  few  hints  in  regard  to  mix- 
ing politics  with  his  profes- 
sion, by  relating  some  of  my 
own  experience.  I  had  been 
engaged  in  rather  a  lucra- 
prettiest    cities    in    the    state 


of  Missouri  for  several  years,  and  I  knew  about  as 
n.iuch  about  politics  as  a  pig  does  about  medicine :  and 
that  was  the  very  reason,  together  with  the  fact  that  I  had 
charged  well  for  my  services  and  collected  most  of  my  fees, 
rendered  me  rather  popular  with  all  parties ;  so  much  so 
that  I  was  importuned  by  leading  citizens  to  accept  the  nom- 
ination for  representative  to  the  Legislature.  At  first  I  de- 
clined most  emphatically;  then  after  reconsideration  of  the 
matter,  I  thought  it  rather  unkind  to  turn  a  deaf  ear  to  my 
friends  who  had  assisted  me  so  much  in  obtaining  practice, 
and  as  my  heart  began  to  soften,  my  head  did  likewise,  and 
I  consented  for  them  to  place  my  name  before  the  conven- 
tion. I  had  no  particular  desire  for  the  position,  and  no 
mouth  for  refusing  it,  and  when  the  newspapers  began  to 
arrive  at  my  desk  with  marked  articles  concerning  my  noble 
qualities  and  superior  ability  I  began  to  see  that  I  was  truly 
a  benfactor  of  my   country ;   and   I  had  a  feeling  of  perfect 


68 


repose.  I  felt  that  I  was  in  the  hands  of  my  friends,  and 
would  be  thoroughly  satisfied  either  way  the  nomination 
went,  for  with  the  large  adverse  majority  which  my  county 
had  always  afforded,  my  chances  for  remaining  at  home  were 
flattering.  So  I  rested  extremely  easy  and  kept  my  face  in 
normal  position,  with  eyes  and  mouth  straight,  as  you  see  in 
No.  I. 

When  convention  day  came  I  could  see  that  I  was  right  in 
it,  and  I  could  already  see  that  my  patriotism  was  beginning 
to  interfere  with  my  practice,  and  that  instead  of  my  office 
being  filled  with  noble  women  and  sweet  children  in  search 
of  relief  and  health  as  before,  it  contained  one-horse  poli- 
ticians who  had  some  good  news  for  me  or  advice  to  offer. 
But  political  aspirations  are  facinating,  and  when  encour- 
aged by  friends,  are  hard  for  a  fool  to  resist.  So  I  put  a 
sign  on  my  door,  "1  will  return  at  5  p.  m.",  and  I  went  to 
the  convention  and  was  nominated  with  a  whoop,  over  one 
of  the  best  old  farmers  in  that  county — a  man  far  more 
able  to  do  justice  to  his  constituents  than  I  was ;  but  I  would 
not  confess  that  fact  just  then. 

Soon  bills  went  out  all  over  the  country  announcing  the 
time  and  places  that  I  was  to  address  the  voters  on  the  great 
issues  of  the  day,  and  soon  I  was  making  speeches  in  the 
country  school  houses  at  night,  and  tormenting  the  farmers 
with  my  presence  during  the  day.  Many  women  and  child- 
ren came  to  see  and  hear  me  because  I  had  relieved  them  or 
some  of  their  friends  of  some  malady  previously,  and  many 
of  my  old  customers  who  differed  with  me  politically,  swore 
that  I  could  never  treat  a  member  of  their  family  again, 
not  so  much  as  prescribe  for  their  yellow  dog.  But  I  went 
on  speech  making  and  hand  shaking.  I  would  shake  hands 
with  and  pretend  to  know  people  who  I  had  never  seen  nor 
heard  of,  just  like  other  politicians,  and  at  the  general  elec- 
tion I  was  just  fifty  votes  ahead.  This  was  quite  a  victory 
considering  that  my  opponent  was  an  experienced  cam- 
paigner, and  one  of  the  leading  lawyers  of  the  county,  and 
that  his  party  had  over  400  majority  to  back  him.  Then  I 
realized  that  I  was  popular  with  both  parties,  because  it  re- 
quired votes  from  both  to  elect  me.  While  I  had  gained 
political   prestige,  my  paying  practice  of  medicine  and  sur- 

69 


gery  was  gone,  and  my  office  closed,  and  I  was  to  be  found  in 
the  hotel  lobby  consulting  with  other  politicians,  reading- 
letters   addressed   to   the   "Honorable ,"   and   trying  to 

look  wise.  Now,  my  face  had  changed  its  proportions  from 
the  normal  position  to  one  of  joy  and  jollity,  as  is  displayed 
here  in  No.  2. 

Either  by  chance,  accident,  or  through  Providence,  I  made 
a  very  good  record  in  the  Legislature.  But  most  of  my  time 
was  spent  in  answering  letters  from  constituents  claiming  that 
my  election  was  due  to  their  own  untiring  efforts  in  my 
behalf,  and  that  I  must  reimburse  them  by  some  appoint- 
ment, a  few  dollars  in  cash,  or  by  endorsing  their  note. 

While  in  the  Legislature,  by  boarding  at  a  private  house 
and  "spunging"  on  kind  folks,  I  actually  saved  $300  which  I 
donated  to  my  wife  to  finish  paying  for  a  home  for  her  and 
the  children  to  live  in  while  I  was  out  looking  after  the  inter- 
ests of  the  blessed  people.  But  before  the  Assembly  ad- 
journed I  found  myself  receiving  only  $1  per  day  for  my 
valuable  services,  while  I  was  paying  $1.50  per  day  for  board 
and  room. 

AVhen  I  returned  home  I  was  met  on  the  streets,  in  hotels, 
and  every  place  I  went,  b}^  the  smaller  type  of  suckers  want- 
ing any  amount  from,  ten  cents  up,  but  I  was  not  prepared 
to  dose  out  the  cash  to  every  one  who  told  me  how  much  he 
had  spent  for  my  benefit,  for  my  practice  was  gone,  and  of- 
fice rent  and  other  expenses  had  to  be  paid.  Finally  T  suc- 
ceeded in  convincing  about  half  of  the  people  that  I  had 
not  entirely  abandoned  the  practice  of  medicine,  and  many 
of  my  old  customers  came  back ;  but  I  was  looked  upon  as  a 
political  doctor,  and  the  next  campaign  T  was  promoted  by 
being  nominated  for  state  senator.  The  indications  were 
even  more  flattering  than  before,  as  I  had  won  a  little  distinc- 
tion as  a  politician,  and  my  opponent  was  not  so  strong  as  the 
one  whom  T  had  defeated.  So  I  thought  that  T  could  read  my 
title  clear  to  a  seat  in  the  capitol  again.  But  a  polit-'cal  wave 
struck  that  country,  and  my  opponent  being  light  weight, 
was  carried  by  the  w'nd,  and  landed  just  where  I  wished  to 
be.  .Then  my  face  of  joy  and  jollity  was  changed  to  one  of 
sorrow  and  troubles,  as  you  see  in  No.  3. 

70 


And  now,  dear  student,  let  nie  say  in  conclusion,  the  high- 
er you  fly  politically,  the  harder  you  will  fall.  It  is  all  right 
to  post  yourself  on  political  economy,  and  on  the  issues  of 
the  day,  but  let  partisianism  alone.  It  is  your  duty  to  go 
and  cast  your  vote  for  the  best  interest  of  society  in  gener- 
al, but  keep  your  mouth  shut  about  it.  In  other  words, 
"Don't  dabble  in  politics;"  for  politics  and  medicine  are  in- 
compatible and  explosive,  and  may  blow  you  up  so  high 
that  3^our  fall  will  cripple  you  permanently. 


A  LEAP  IN  THE  DARK. 


During    my    practice    of 
medicine,     which     has    oc- 
cupied about    twenty-eight 
years  of  my  time  already, 
I  have  had  many  ups  and 
downs,     but     more     downs 
than      ups      and      I      have 
observed    that    I    could    go 
down    much    quicker    than 
I  could  go  up,  and  could  stay  longer  when   I  got  there.     I 
have  also  noticed  that  it  requires  no  effort  to  descend,  while 
it  takes  considerable  effort  to  ascend. 

Some  people  pretend  to  believe  that  if  you  mean  well,  you 
will  do  well;  and  will  succeed  in  every  instance;  but  I  am 
of  the  opinion  that  plenty  of  genuine  experience  would  con- 
vince them  otherwise.  Some  of  my  greatest  failures  have 
come  when  I  least  expected  them. 

The  fact  that  a  man  cannot  fathom,  the  darkness  of  the 
future,  renders  him  unable  to  see,  at  times  at  least,  what 
is  before  him.  He  may  not  exactly  understand  the  true 
situation  of  things,  and  for  the  want  of  knowledge  as  to 
the  plans  and'  acts  of  others,  he  may  find  himself  flat  on 
his  back  in  the  dark.  As  an  example,  I  will  here  relate  a 
true  story  which   took  place  in   the  year   1886. 


71 


I  was  called  to  see  a  patient  after  supper,  who  lived  just 
across  a  small  stream  from  where  I  had  my  shingle  out. 
By  walking,  the  distance  was  only  a  half  mile ;  but  the  hills 
were  too  steep,  and  the  timber  too  dense  for  going  across* 
that  way,  on  horseback".  So  I  threw  my  pill  bags  on  my 
shoulder  and  walked  over.  After  prescribing  for  my  pati- 
ent, and  waiting  till  he  got  easy,  I  started  for  the  place  I 
called  home.  I  had  noticed  as  I  went  over,  that  the  little 
creek  required  a  good  jump  to  cross  it ;  and  as  the  timber 
was  very  heavy  and  the  hills  high  on  both  sides,  the  valley 
had  become  exceedingly  dark,  and  I  could  not  see  the  dim 
path  as  I  went  back,  but  thought  I  knew  the  way,  and  took 
much  pains  to  go  in  the  right  direction,  looking  carefully 
for  the  creek  lest  I  should  '^get  my  foot  in  it."  Finally  I 
saw  the  water  glistening,  and  I  cautiously  advanced  till  I 
l<new  I  was  right,  and  then  with  an  extra  ordinary  jump, 
I  went  as  far  as  I  possibly  could  in  order  to  land  just  right; 
when  to  my  utter  astonishment,  the  earth  seemed  to  fly  up 
and  hit  me  in  the  back;  but  soon  I  recovered  enough  to 
know  that  I  was  flat  on  my  back  with  my  head  in  the  edge 
of  the  water.  The  jolt  excited  my  optical  apparatuses,  and 
I  saw  a  million  of  new  stars,  but  was  unable  to  see  just 
what  had  happened.  I  crawled  out  and  picked  my  hat  and 
pill  bags  out  of  the  water  and  groped  my  way  up  the  hill 
to  my  boarding  place. 

Next  morning  I  went  back  to  see  what  really  did  take 
place  ;  whether  an  earthquake  had  occurred,  or  that  only  a 
small  land  slide  had  struck  me.  But  after  taking  my  back 
track  to  the  water,  I  found  that  instead  of  crossing  the 
stream  at  the  proper  place.  I  had  struck  it  several  rods  be- 
low, where  there  was  a  bank  about  six  feet  high  with  a 
limb  projecting  out  from  an  old  log  that  some  one  had 
placed  there  for  their  own  convenience  in  fishing:  and  it 
caught  my  feet  when  I  jumped,  and  turned  them  clear  over 
my  head.  And  the  print  of  my  back  remained  there  in  the 
mud  to  show  the  result  of  my  mistake,  and  the  folly  of  a 
leap  in   the  dark. 


72 


MY  HARDEST  FALL. 

I  have  had  many  hard  falls  during  my  career.  I  have 
heen  thrown  from  the  backs  of  horses,  mules,  cattle,  sheep, 
and  hogs  when  a  boy,  and  I  have  slipped  on  ice  and  fell, 
causing  concussion  of  the  brain ;  and  I  have  fallen  in  love 
with  girls;  but  my  hardest  fall  occurred  during  the  spring 
of  1900.  I  was  summoned  to  attend  a  very  wealthy  gentle- 
man whose  daily  income  was  up  in  the  hundreds.  He  owned 
a  large  oil  field  in  the  state  of  New  York,  which  contained 
several  gushing  wells.  He  was  quite  old,  and  had  no  child- 
ren. I  found  him  suffering  from  an  attack  of  acute  pneu- 
monia complicated  with  an  organic  heart  affection.  The 
old  gentleman  appealed  to  me  to  be  honest  with  him,  and 
tell  the  cold  truth  about  his  chances  for  recovery.  I  did 
not  hesitate,  but  told  him  frankly  that  his  chance  was  very 
doubtful.  With  tears  in  his  eyes,  he  implored  me  to  do  all 
in  my  power  to  save  his  life,  as  he  had  some  mortgages, 
deeds  of  trust,  and  other  money  matters  to  fix  up,  which 
would  require  a  few  months  time.  Grasping  my  hand'  firm- 
ly, while  the  tears  were  flowing  down  his  wrinkled  cheeks, 
he  said  in  a  trembling  voice,  "I  have  considerable  wealth, 
and  no  one  to  leave  it  to  but  my  wife,  and  she  is  old  and  don't 
need  it,  because  she  has  a  fortune  of  her  own ;  and  if  you 
save  my  life,  I  will  do  something  for  you."  This  expres- 
sion increased  my  courage,  and  I  continued  my  examina- 
tion, entering  into  the  most  minute  details  of  his  case.  I 
visited  my  extraordinary  patient  from  two  to  three  times 
each  day,  and  sometimes  at  night,  for  two  weeks.  My 
course  of  treatment  consisted  of  all  the  external  and  in- 
ternal remedies  that  I  could  administer  with  safet}^  to  the 
patient,  combined  with  suggestive  and  hygienic  pre- 
cautions. 

Finally,  the  crisis  came,  and  convalescence  was  fully  es- 
tablished, and  as  my  patient  recovered,  his  desire  to  reward 
me   did   not   fade   away   as   is   so  frequently   the   case   with 

73 


some  others ;  but  he  remembered  his  promise  and  renewed 
it  at  every  visit  I  made.  He  would  gaze  at  me  and  declare 
that  my  face  was  the  most  beautiful  one  that  he  had  ever 
seen.  Then  he  would  complete  the  act  by  saying,  "you 
have  saved  my  life,  and  I  am  going  to  do  something  for 
you."  All  doubts  as  to  his  sincereity  vanished  from  my 
mind ;  and  the  only  question  for  me  to  solve,  was  the 
amount  I  would  receive.  While  I  was  made  quite  happy 
by  the  bright  prospects  of.  a  little  fortune,  my  sleep  was 
disturbed  by  my  plans  for  investing  a  few  thousand  dollars ; 
but  I  had  a  right  to  lie  awake  of  nights  if  fortune  so  de- 
creed, for  it  was  better  to  be  rich  and  suffer  a  little  from 
insomnia,  than  to  be  poor  and  sleep  of  nights  on  horseback^ 
as  I  had  done  for  twenty-five  years. 

When  I  dismissed  his  case,  he  asked  me  to  make  out  my 
bill ;  and  in  order  to  prove  to  him  that  he  was  bestowing  a 
fortune  on  a  worthy  subject.  I  rendered  my  bill  for  the  us- 
ual amount  that  I  charged  my  neighbors  in  such  cases,  and 
it  was  promptly  paid  and  my  receipt  asked  for  in  full. 

Within  a  few  days,  my  patient  called  at  the  hotel  where 
I  was  boarding,  and  informed  me  that  he  was  to  return  to 
New  York  on  the  next  train;  but  could  not  leave  without 
first  doing  something  for  me.  He  declared  that  I  was  to 
him,  the  best  looking  and  dearest  man  on  earth :  and  I 
returned  the  compliment,  and  assured  him  that  it  was  my 
highest  pleasure  to  fan  every  spark  of  his  life  into  a  blaze 
of  glory.  He  then  grasped  my  hand,  and  leading  me  back 
in  the  hall  where  others  could  not  hear,  said :  "I  am  going 
to  do  something  for  you,  and  I'll  now  tell  you  what  it  is." 
At  this  moment  his  lips  quivered,  and  his  grip  almost 
crushed  the  bones  in  my  hand.  I  then  wondered  whether 
the  amount  would  be  $50,000,  $20,000  or  only  $10,000.  My 
heart  beat  with  exaggerated  force ;  in  fact,  my  internal  caroted 
arteries  were  pounding  on  my  auditory  nerves  like  a  sledge 
hammer  on  the  boiler  of  a  steam  engine.  I  felt  like  jump- 
ing right  straight  up,  and  looked  to  see  if  there  were  any 
danger  of  my  head  striking  the  ceiling.  Indeed,  I  felt  that 
I  was  duly  elected.  Just  then  the  old  gentleman  reached 
his  arm  aroimd  my  neck,  and  with  his  other  hand  caught 
my  ear  and  pulled  it  to  his  lips,  and  in  a  whisper  said:     "T 

74 


will  now  give  you  a  fortune,  if  you  will  make  good  use  of 
it.  It  is  a  never  failing  remedy  for  'The  Piles.'  He  then 
stepped  back  and  looked  me  in  the  eye  with  an  expression 
that  seemed  to  say,  "do  you  appreciate  the  fortune?" 

I  staggered  into  my  room,  locked  the  door,  and  fell  onto 
my  bed.  The  old  man  left  on  next  train,  but  I  did  not 
tell  him  good-bye ;  because  my  fall  was  too  hard  for  me  to 
rise  so  soon,  and  I  lay  there  thinking,  "Oh,  what  is  man 
that  Thou  art  mindful  of  him?" 


A  SURE  CURE   FOR   MENINGITIS. 


Some  years,  ago  I  was 
called  out  one  cold  windy 
night,  and  had  to  walk 
facing  the  snow  which  was 
coming  from  the  north- 
west at  an  angle  of  15  de- 
grees. I  walked  because 
it  being  but  a  mile,  I 
thought  it  too  close  to  ride, 
and  too  cold  to  hitch  up  nty  team ;  but  I  found  the  snow 
deep  and  slippery,  and  in  making  three  steps  I  slipped  back 
one ;  but  I  managed  to  get  there.  I  found  my  patient  suf- 
fering from  an  imaginary  attack  of  what  he  called  ''spinal 
meningitis  of  the  brain."  He  was  about  60  years  old,  and 
had  been  trying  to  practice  medicine  for  many  years.  He 
informed  me  that  his  best  remedy  had  failed  to  relieve  him 
on  account  of  the  cold  weather  interfering  with  the  appli- 
cation of  it.  I  inquired  what  his  remedy  was,  and  he  gave 
me  the  secret  in  detail,  the  substance  of  which  was.  to 
place  a  drop  of  molasses  on  the  end  of  the  patient's  nose 
and  allow  the  flies  to  suck  at  it.  He  stated  that  the  irrita- 
tion of  the  nose  produced  by  the  constant  gnawing  of  the 
flies  would  invariably  draw  all  the  inflanTmation"  from  the 
meninges.     I  endorsed  his  remedy  heartily,  and  advised  him 

75 


to  continue  the  treatment;  but  he  said  the  weather  was  so 
cold  that  the  flies  could  not  perform  their  function.  I  then 
made  a  thorough  examination  of  his  case,  and  found  that 
he  had  a  mild  attack  of  acute  bronchitis,  which  accounted 
for  the  pain  in  his  head,  which  he  had  mistaken  for  a  more 
grave  malady.  I  prescribed  my  usual  course  of  treatment 
in  such  cases,  and  urged  him  to  keep  up  his  method  of  nasal 
irritation,  or  counter-irritation,  and  suggested  that  they 
warm  up  their  room  so  that  the  flies  could  do  their  duty. 
When  I  got  ready  to  leave  him,  he  grasped  my  hand  and 
made  me  promise  to  return  next  day.  Next  day  I  reached 
his  bedside  at  the  appointed  hour,  and  found  the  temper- 
ature of  the  room  about  90,  and  his  wife  busy  shewing  the 
flies  around  toward  the  old  doctor's  nose ;  and  you  can  im- 
agine my  uncontrolable  disposition  to  laugh,  when  I 
glanced  at  my  patient  and  saw  his  nose  covered  with  mo- 
lasses, and  a  large  clothes  pin  slipped  down  tightly  over  it 
in  order  to  accomplish  what  the  flies  failed  to  do.  I  com- 
plimented him  on  account  of  his  ingenious  and  skillful  treat- 
ment of  himself,  and  invited  him  to  call  at  my  office  when 
he  got  up,  and  it  would  not  be  necessary  for  me  to  make 
any  more  visits,  since  he  had  the  case  under  control.  With- 
in a  few  days  he  stepped  into  my  office  and  stated  that  he 
merely  called  to  show  me  what  wonderful  results  he  had 
attained  from  the  persistent  use  of  that  clothes  pin,  which 
he  was  certain  had  saved  his  life.  He  left  me,  saying, 
"when  you  or  your  family  get  sick  I  will  return  your  pro- 
fessional courtesy." 


76 


A  ROOSTER  PULLING. 


When  a  young  man,  I 
was  proud  of  my  physical 
strength  and  activity ;  and 
while  practicing  in  Dyer 
County,  Tenn.,  I  visited 
the  log  rollings  and  took 
part,  often  lifting  against 
some  of  the  brags  of  that 
country;  but  I  never  fully 
exerted  every  ounce  of  my  strength  until  I  took  a  pull  at 
an  old  rooster's  hind  legs.  This  is  the  way  I  got  into  it: 
I  was  boarding  with  a  good  old  man  who  had  a  wife  and 
seven  children  at  home.  Most  of  the  children  were 
grown.  He  also  had  a  son-in-law  who  had  recently  been 
grafted  into  the  family  by  the  matrimonial  process.  This 
son-in-law  was  a  doctor,  and  they  all  called  him  "Dock." 
The  children  all  stood  by  their  mother  in  every  thing  she 
did  or  said;  and  the  mother  always  took  sides  with  her 
husband,  which  was  right,  of  course  ;  and  the  father  always 
believed  and  acted  according  to  the  dictates  and  sugges- 
tions of  Dock ;  and  in  most  instances,  he  was  safe  in  doing 
so,  because  Dock  had  more  sound  brains  than  all  the  other 
nine  combined.  But  such  arrangement  made  matters  a  lit- 
tle severe  on  me,  when  by  chance  I  differed  with  that  im- 
portant son-in-law;  because  when  I  did  so,  I  had  the  whole 
shooting-match  against  me,  and  either  had  to  back  down  or 
fight  to  a  finish. 

One  day  while  all  were  at  the  dining  table,  Dock  sug- 
gested that  no  man  living  could  hurt  a  rooster  by  pulling  at 
his  legs  while  its  breast  rested  against  his  bare  foot.  I  un- 
thoughtedly  remarked  that  I  could  kill  any  old  cock  in  the 
state  of  Tennessee  that-  way.  Then  Dock  offered  to  bet  ♦ 
that  I  could  not  hurt  one.  and  said  that  after  I  got  through 
pulling,  the  rooster  would  walk  off,  flop  his  wings  and  crow. 


77 


He  went  on  to  say  I  could  not  hurt  an  old  hen ;  and  he 
would  bet  that  if  I  tried,  she  would  walk  off  singing,  "kah, 
kah,  kah."  Then  the  old  man  bounced  upon  me,  and  his  wife 
began,  then  all  the  children  fell  in  line,  they  laughed  and  dared 
me  to  try  it;  and  when  I  said  I  did  not  want  to  kill  their  roos- 
ters, they  offered  to  pay  for  all  damage.  Finally,  I  got  my 
ambition  aroused,  and  declared  myself  ready,  if  they  would 
furnish  the  victim  free  of  charge  to  me.  They  accepted  my 
proposition,  and  set  8  o'clock  the  next  morning  for  the  fun, 
as  they  had  to  wait  till  night  to  catch  the  rooster.  The  old 
lady  was  of  an  extremtely  romantic  disposition,  and  had  an 
old  rooster  that  she  called  her  "lonesome  crower."  She 
was  so  confident  that  Dock  was  right  in  his  judgment,  that 
she  offered  her  lonesome  crower,  stating  that  she  would  not 
take  less  than  $io  for  him ;  but  as  she  knew  he  would  l)e 
in  no  danger  she  would  use  him  on  this  occasion  just  to' 
give  hini  more  notoriety.  I  knew  she  admired  that  rooster 
on  account  of  his  peculiar  doleful  crow,  and  his  extreme 
age,  and  I  really  dreaded  the  consequences  of  the  experi- 
ment ;  but  as  you  know,  fight  means  fight,  and  opposition 
excites  opposition ;  and  they  had  antagonized  me  so  much, 
and  had  so  much  fun  at  my  expense,  that  I  felt  almost  able 
to  pull  a  mule's  legs  off;  and  certainly  I  could  fix  that  old 

rooster.     As  last  warning,  I  said.  "Mrs.  C ,  I'll  kill  that 

old  cock  sure,  for  I'm  in  this  game  to  win.''  She  replied, 
"you  can't  hurt  him !  it  will  make  him  better,  and  the 
other  chickens  will  be  more  proud  of  him." 

Night  came  on  and  the  old  lonesome  crower  was  caught 
and  kept  in  a  box  till  morning.  Soon  as  breakfast  was  over, 
everything  was  put  in  order  for  the  pulling;  btit  my!  how 
they  did  laugh!  It  seemied  that  the  shingles  on  the  roof 
rattled !  They  were  so  funny  that  I  enjoyed  it  a  little  bit 
myself.  Eight  o'clock  came,  and  botli  ]:)arties  ans\vered 
ready.  Dock  had  been  selected  as  the  referee,  and  the  se- 
lection pleased  me,  because  he  was  an  honest  man.  and  I 
had  no  fears  that  he  would  be  unfair  with  me.  He  ordered 
me  to  take  both  shoes  off,  and  T  obeyed;  then  he  ordered 
me  to  be  seated  flat  on  the  floor,  which  T  also  obeyed.  I 
then  spoke  up  and  advised  them  all  to  kiss  that  old  cock 
good-by ;   but    they   declined,   saying,    they    expected   to   con- 

78 


gratulate  him  soon.  Dock  placed  the  fowl's  stomach  against 
my  bare  foot,  one  of  his  legs  in  each  hand,  and  said:  "Now 
begin  to  pull  gradually."  I  took  a  full  breath  and  renewed 
my  resolution  to  either  kill  that  old  rooster  or  change  my 
boarding  place.  Then  I  let  on  my  pressure;  and  while  all 
seemed  to  have  implicit  confidence  in  the  rooster,  I  could 
see  in  the  old  chicken's  eye  an  expression  of  doubt  as  to 
his  safety.  Just  as  I  put  on  the  very  last  ounce  of  my 
strength,   which,    according   to   the    scales,   was   700  pounds, 

I  felt  his  structure  giving 
way.  and  his  head  fell ;  for 
his  life  was  extinct.  Now, 
all  the  laughing  was  over  for 
I  could  not  laugh  alone,  and 
I  had  no  one  to  help  me.  In 
fact,  it  was  not  the  proper 
place  to  laugh  just  then,  be- 
cause all  other  inmates  of 
the  house  were  in  mourn-'ng  over  the  old  lonesome 
crower.  The  old  lady  and  her  girls  wept,  while 
Dock  and  the  other  men  folk  bowed  their  heads  in  submis- 
■<ion  to  Providence:  The  price  of  that  cock  suddenly  rose 
to  $25.  At  any  rate,  the  old  lady  demanded  that  amount 
of  me  for  so  brutally  murdering  her  pet.  I  kept  unusually 
still  for  a  time,  till  all  could  become  reconciled.  Within  a 
few  days,  I  felt  safe :  because  I  heard  Dock  and  the  old 
gentleman  oflfering  to  bet  with  some  of  their  neighbors  that 
T  could  kill  any  rooster  in  Tennessee  on  a  straight,  honest 
pull. 

Now,  good  reader,  let  me  admonish  you  to  never  bet  on 
any  man's  tricks.  Alen  may  tell  you  wonderful  things  that 
they  and  their  friends  think  they  know,  but  I  say.  the  right 
man  can  kill  the  rooster  every  time. 


79 


LOVE  AT  FIRST  SIGHT. 


For  this  story,  I  am  in- 
debted to  a  cousin  who 
told  it  to  me  concerning 
his  uncle,  and  my  uncle 
as  well ;  and  he  vouches 
for  the  truthfulness  of 
every  statement  contained 
therein.  If  I  thought 
that  any  one  would  con- 
strue a  word  of  it  to  be  in  disrespect  to  the  aged  relative, 
this  article  would  be  omitted  entirely ;  for  no  relative  of 
mine  has  been  held  in  higher  esteem  by  me  than  this  dear 
old  uncle.  He  was  not  wealthy  financially,  but  r:ch  in  char- 
acter. A  more  industrious  and  honest  man  than  he  never 
lived.  Alas !  Like  most  of  my  ancestors,  he  has  crossed 
the  gulf  from  whence  he  cannot  return,  and  left  me  here 
to  live  a  few  more  years  with  hope  to  anchor  where  I  can 
once  more  meet  him  and  other  near  and  dear  ones  face  to 
face. 

Uncle's  noble  and  blessed  wife  had  fallen  asleep  many 
years  previously,  and  his  children  had  all  married,  leaving 
him  alone,  with  no  company  except  an  old  horse,  which 
he  rode  about,  visiting  children  and  other  relatives.  He 
was  old — up  in  the  seventies,  and  whether  true  or  not,  he 
imagined  himself  more  or  less  in  the  way.  So  he  con- 
ceived the  idea  that  perhaps  he  could  find  a  worthy 
widow,  just  as  lonesome  as  himself.  This  thought  occupied 
his  mind  imtil  he  revealed  his  inclinations  to  his  nephew 
(my  cousin),  who  encouraged  him,  saying  he  knew  a  fine  old 
lady,  owning  a  ten-acre  farm,  two  boys,  and  an  old  mare. 
L'^^ncle  was  exceedingly  pleased  at  this  fortunate  discovery, 
and  urged  an  immediate  introduction  to  the  widow.  So 
they  saddled  their  horses  and  rode  ove«-,  claiming  that  they 
were  huntiner  for  a  lost  cow.     The     widow     was   at  home. 


80 


looking  as  fresh  as  the  dog-wood  blossoms  in  the  month  of 
May;  the  old  mare  was  in  the  lot,  and  the  two  boys  were 
playing  in  the  yard.  Uncle  took  in  the  situation  at  a  glance, 
and  thought  he  could  never  find  a  better  opportunity,  and 
that  he  had  better  push  his  cause.  It  seemed  to  him  that 
every  word  he  spoke,  and  every  flash  of  his  keen  black  eyes 
was  duly  appreciated  by  Mrs.  N.  So  he  lost  no  time  in  in- 
forming her  that  he  was  alone  in  the  world,  and  that  his 
loneliness  had  become  very  lonesome,  and  he  intended  to 
break  the  monotony  his  first  chance.  The  widow  seemed 
to  be  glad  to  hear  this,  and  right  there,  in  the  presence  of 
Cousin,  confessed  that  she  had  been  pondering  the  very 
same  thoughts  in  her  mind,  but  was  afraid  she  could  never 
find  any  one  who  could  get  along  with  her  boys,  as  they 
had  lived  so  far  away  from  school  that  they  could  not  at- 
tend, and  had,  consequently,  studied  vice  instead  of  virtue. 
Uncle  assured  her  that  he  loved  small  boys,  and  would  take 
great  interest  in  bringing  them  up  in  the  way  that  they 
should  go,  and  he  urged' her  to  bring  them  in  to  get  ac- 
quainted with  him.  Then  she  called  and  introduced  them, 
at  the  same  time  asking,  "Do  you  think  you  can  get  along 
with  these  bad  boys?"  "Certainly!  Certainly!  Always!" 
was  the  reply.  "Then  come  over  tomorrow  and  we  will  see  a 
little  further  about  matters,"  said  Mrs.  N.  Cousin  took  this 
for  a  hint  that  he  was  a  little  too  much  company  on  an  oc- 
casion like  that,  and  as  he  had  performed  his  part,  he  pro- 
posed to  go  on  looking  for  the  lost  cow,  and  they  departed. 
From  that  moment  Uncle  did  nothing  except  talk  about 
"that  nice  widow ;  those  fine  boys ;  that  splendid  old  mare ; 
and  that  beautiful  little  farm."  "I  will  marry  the  widow, 
and  hitch  my  old  horse  in  by  the  side  of  her  mare  and  the 
boys  can  make  the  crop  while  I  sit  and  talk  to  my  wife." 
He  could  not  sleep  on  account  of  thinking  about  going  back 
the  next  day,  and  got  up  at  all  hours  of  the  night  and  sat 
before  the  fire  wishing  for  day  to  come.  Finally,  day  did 
come,  and  the  sun  rose  in  unusual  splendor  and  seemed  to 
Uncle  to  say.  "you  are  dawning  upon  a  new  life — one  of  joy 
and  happiness."  After  breakfast,  no  time  was  lost  by  Uncle. 
He  mounted  his  old  horse  and  rode  over  to  see  his  widow ; 
for   by  this  time,   he   called   her   "my   widow."      From   some 

Si 


cause,  he  forgot  to  invite  Cousin  to  go  with  him  on  this  oc- 
casion. When  he  arrived,  the  dear  little  boys  whom  he 
had  already  learned  to  love  with  parental  afifection,  were 
dressed  in  their  Sunday  clothes,  and  met  him  and  hitched 
his  horse,  and  invited  him  to  go  into  the  house  ;  and  he 
obeyed  without  being  told  the  second  time.  There  he  was 
met  by  his  widow,  who  seemed  desperately  glad  to  see  him. 
and  was  herself  all  fixed  up  with  her  store  dress  on,  and 
her  hair  braided  and  hanging  down  her  back  like  a  girl. 
Soon  they  were  in  the  midst  of  earnest  courtship.  He  pro- 
posed that  they  lose  no  time,  but  get  married  at  once,  and 
start  anew  in  life ;  but  she  hesitated  on  account  of  the  boys, 
saying,  "they  are  so  bad  I'm  afraid  you  can't  get  along 
with  them."  He  avowed  that  he  would  never  give  either  of 
them  a  cross  word,  and  would  never  allow  any  one  except 
her  to  say  that  they  were  bad.  He  declared  that  they  were 
as  near  like  angels  as  he  had  ever  seen,  and  that  he  loved 
them,  and  could  not  be  made  to  believe  that  they  would  do 
wrong.  This  was  enough.  Airs.  N.  consented,  and  set  Sun- 
day as  the  day,  which  only  gave  Uncle  one  day  in  which  to 
go  eighteen  miles  after  the  license.  Then,  with  a  lover's 
hand-shake,  he  bade  her  an  affectionate  farewell,  and  at- 
tempted to  salute  her  according  to  ancient  custom,  but  she 
shied,  and  he  desisted. 

When  Uncle  reached  his  horse,  he  noticed  the  boys  peep- 
ing around  the  corner  of  the  barn  at  him,  and  just  to  show 
them  how  spry  their  new  father  was,  by  exerting  every 
muscle  in  his  hide,  he  sprang  into  the  saddle  at  one  jump, 
but  did  not  remain  there  long,  because  the  old  horse  would 
not  have  been  more  surprised  if  the  moon  and  seven  stars 
had  hit  him  square  in  the  back.  He  kicked  high  with  both 
feet,  and  threw  himself  into  every  shape  possible,  and  cut 
all  kinds  of  capers,  while  my  dear  old  Uncle  went  heels  up, 
and  over  the  horse's  head,  and  the  girth  broke,  letting  the 
saddle  fall  with  a  half  dozen  sharp  stones  that  had  been 
placed  under  it  by  the  angelic  boys.  Uncle  got  up  rather 
slowly  and  re-adjusted  his  old  saddle  and  walked  over  to 
Cousin's,  leading  his  steed.  Cousin  met  him  at  the  door 
and  asked,  "how  did  you  make  it?"  Uncle  shook  his  head 
and   said,   "Not   at   all!     I'll  never  go  on  that   place  again! 

82 


Those  boys  ought  to  be  in  the  pen !  Why,  they  are  the 
worst  I  ever  saw !  I  have  no  use  for  them,  nor  any  one 
that's  a-kin  to  them."  Cousin  asked  if  he  still  thought  they 
were  like  angels,  and  he  replied.  "Yes,  they  are  angels; 
Angels  of  the  Devil." 


A  TEN  DOLLAR  STORY. 

Away  back  in  the  sixties  I  knew  an  old  doctor  whose 
name  was  really  "Smith."  He  had  never  graduated  from 
a  medical  school,  but  received  his  medical  education  in  the 
army.  While  he  could  not  boast  of  having  a  classical  edu- 
cation, he  had  an  eye  to  business,  and  loved  to  collect  a 
handsome  fee  as  well  as  any  man.  One  day  he  was  called 
to  see  a  Mr.  Blank,  who  had  accidentall}^  swallowed  a  ten 
dollar  gold  piece,  and  wanted  the  first  doctor  that  could  be 
found.  At  first  Smith  hesitated  about  going,  because  Blank 
was  known  to  him  as  well  as  to  all  other  doctors  in  reach 
as  a  dead-head,  but  after  the  second  thought,  the  old  doctor's 
cunning  ingenuity  suggested  to  him,  go,  for  you  can  get 
your  pay  this  time  if  you  manage  things  just  right,  for 
there  is  no  doubt  about  the  patient  having  the  cash,  if  you 
can  only  "get  it  out  of  him.  So  he  lost  no  time,  and  was  soon 
leading  the  Avay  around  the  curve,  several  rods  ahead  of  the 
messenger  who  summoned  him.  When  he  arrived,  he  found 
his  patient  somewhat  financially  depressed,  and  frightened 
almost  out  of  his  senses.  "Doctor!  Doctor!"  he  exclaimed; 
"Can  you  do  anything  for  me?  Can  you  save  it?  Will  it 
melt?  Oh!  Doctor,  save  me  and  you  shall  have  your  pay 
if  it  takes  the  shirt  oflf  of  my  back."  The  old  doctor  laughed 
at  this  expression,  because  he  had  practiced  long  enough  to 
know  that  a  man  who  uses  such  language  will  never  pay 
a  bill  if  he  can 'avoid  it.  But  he  said,  "All  right.  Blank,  I'll 
stick  to  you  this  time  and  risk  getting  my  pay."  He  then 
ordered  Mr.  B.  to  eat  six  cold  biscuits,  four  doughnuts,  and 
a  pie-crust,  which  B.  gulped  down  within  ten  minutes;  then 


asked,  "Dock,  is  this  all  you  are  going  to  give  me?"  '*Yes^ 
for  the  present,"  he  replied.  Smith  knew  that  his  only 
chance  was  to  await  results,  so  he  treated  the  case  on  the 
"expectant"  plan.  That  is,  he  expected  to  get  a  fee  of  $io 
soon. 

After  sitting  on  an  old  stool-bottom  chair  with  its  back 
crippled,  for  twenty-four  hours,  the  old  doctor  became  more 
restless  than  the  patient,  and  in  order  to  encourage  matters 
a  little,  he  ventured  to  put  a  drop  of  croton  oil  into  a  bread 
pill  and  drop  it  down  Blank's  esophagus.  Within  a  few 
minutes  the  patient  had  important  business  in  another  room^ 
and  on  his  return  exclaimed,  "Dock,  you  must  be  tired ;  you 
can  go  home  and  sleep  some,  and  I'll  send  for  you  if  I  get 
worse."  This  aroused  Smith's  suspicion,  and  he  sprang  to 
his  feet  and  excitedly  remarked,  "Has  my  medicine  had  the 
desired  effect?  Let  me  see!  I  want  to  note  the  effect  the 
human  system  has  on  gold !"  Mr.  B.  replied,  "The  human 
system  has'nt  so  much  effect  on  gold  as  gold  has  on  the 
human  system.  I  could  see  no  change  in'  it  at  all.  and 
not  knowing  that  you  cared  to  see  it,  I've  just  sent  it  to 
the  store  to  buy  the  children  some  Christmas  candy  and  a 
few  other  little  tricks." 


SHE  TOOK  HER  MEDICINE. 

In  1878  I  was  called  to  see  a  woman  who  boasted  of  tak- 
ing medicine  as  directed.  I  left  her  five  powders  and  direc- 
tions to  take  one  every  two  hours.  Next  day  I  returned 
and  examined  my  patient,  and  then  proceeded  to  count  the 
doses  left,  as  was  my  custom,  to  see  how  many  had  been 
taken,  when,  to  my  surprise  and  dissatisfaction,  I  found  five 
powders  still  in  the  box.  I  then  asked  my  patient  how  many 
doses  she  had  taken,  and  she  replied,  "I  taken  all-uv-um." 
I  frankly  disputed  her  word,  and  told  her  that  she  had  not 
taken  one.  The  woman  declared  that  she  had  taken  ten. 
and  proved  her  statement  by  her  little  boy,  who  had  given 

84 


her  the  medicine.  I  informed  her  that  I  had  only  left  five 
doses,  but  she  persisted  in  saying  that  she  had  taken  ten. 
I  then  opened  each  paper  in  order  to  make  my  case  stronger, 
and  found  that  they  all  contained  ashes.  Her  five-year-old 
son  had  refilled  the  papers  with  ashes  as  fast  as  they  had 
been  emptied,  and  his  mother  had  taken  five  doses  of  my 
medicine,  and  five  doses  of  his  ashes.  Had  I  not  returned, 
probably  the  old  lady  would  have  been  converted  into  an 
ash-hopper.  However,  she  made  a  good  recovery,  and  the 
combination  seemed  to  be  perfectly  compatible  with  her 
system. 


MY  DOG  FIGHT. 


I  am  somewhat  coward- 
ly when  facing  a  mad  man 
or  a  wild  hog.  because 
neither  have  sense  enough 
to  know  when  they  are 
whipped  ;  but  I  never  was 
afraid  of  a  dog,  because 
dogs  know  when  they  get 
enough.  The  only  time 
that  I  ever  felt  like  backing  down  from  dogs,  was  in  1876, 
and  I  did  not  back  down  then,  however,  because  I  was 
kept  too  busy.  It  was  in  Lake  County,  Tenn.  I  had  been 
called  to  see  a  Mrs.  Moore  (who  was  sick,  of  course),  and 
when  I  arrived,  there  was  no  one  about  except  the  patient. 
I  hitched  my  horse  and  started  to  the  house,  when  I  no- 
ticed a  large  fox  hound  coming  around  each  side  of  the  house 
at  full  speed,  and  yelling  with  all  their  power.  Neither  of 
them  manifested  any  symptoms  of  cowardice,  but  both  made 
directly  for  me.  I  took  in  the  situation  at  once,  and  saw  that 
I  could  do  nothing  except  kick ;  so  I  let  drive  at  the  first  one 
which  came  in  reach,  with  my  right  foot,  and  as  he  dodged 
back,  the  other  one  came,  and  I  kicked  at  him  with  my  left, 


85 


and  as  he  dodged  back  the  other  one  came  again  on  my 
right.  In  this  way  the  performance  continued.  They  were 
botli  good  jumpers,  hard  snappers  and  quick  dodgers,  so  they 
kept  me  busy  kicking  with  both  feet  (alternately),  for  several 
seconds,  and  after  I  had  been  kicking  and  jumping  till  I  felt 
my  strength  failing,  and  had  not  touched  a  hair  on  either 
dog,  I  saw  a  third  hound  coming  from  the  barn  in  full  speed. 
This  was  very  discouraging,  because  I  only  had  two  feet,  and 
they  were  both  engaged.  I  had  all  kinds  of  thoughts,  and 
said  all  kinds  of  things,  but  all  that  I  could  do  or  say  im- 
parted no  discouragement  to  the  ferocious  beasts.  Just  as 
the  third  one  appeared,  my  patient  had  finished  dressing 
herself,  and  opened  the  door  and  yelled  in  a  loud  voice, 
"Watch,  Ring,  Trail,  sneak  off!"  They  obeyed,  and  I  was 
more  pleased  to  meet  my  patient  than  ever  before,  or  s-'nce. 
She  probably  saved  my  life,  and  I  am  sure  she  saved  my 
pantloons. 


MIND  OVER  MATTER. 


Should     one      desire     to 
compete    with    quacks, 
He    must     acquire     psyco- 
logical  facts. 

Whilst  the  little  event 
which  I  am  going  to  re- 
late actually  took  place  in 
my.  practice,  the  idea  is  not 
entirely  original  with  me, 
because  I  was  indebted  to  a  friend  for  the  story  long  before 
T  used  it  on  my  patient. 

My  patient  was  a  noble  woman  in  most  respects,  and  a 
splendid  patient,  because  she  sent  for  me  often  and  always 
pii\(\  her  bills  promptly.  She  was  subject  to  the  most  terrible 
attacks  of  her  heart,  head,  throat  and  stomch,  but  they  al- 
ways  yielded   to   my   treatment ;   in   fact   I   could   relieve   her 

86 


with  most  anything,  provided  she  did  not  know  what  I  was 
giving.  Her  husband  often  told  me  that  my  presence  did 
her  as  much  good  as  the  medicine,  but  she  never  told  me  so. 
The  husband  was  a  farmer  and  a  good  man,  but  he  became 
vexed  at  having  to  quit  his  work  and  go  after  me  so  often. 
One  day  he  came  out  plainly  and  said:  "Doctor,  I  don't 
mind  paying  your  bills,  but  I  haven't  time  to  go  after  you 
every  few  da3^s ;  crop  time  is  here  now,  and  just  as  soon  as  I 
go  into  the  field  my  wife  calls  me  to  go  after  you.  Now, 
doctor,  be  honest  with  me  and  tell  me  if  my  wife  is  really  in 
any  danger."  His  earnest  appeal  for  the  truth  elicited  my  ■ 
sympathy,  and  I  broke  down  and  stated  the  facts.  I  said, 
your  wife  is  only  hysterical  and  is  in  no  danger  whatever. 
If  she  would  pick  up  a  resolution,  and  exercise  will  power, 
she  would  not  need  much  medicine.  ''But  how  can  we  get 
her  to  do  that?  What  can  I  do?  I  am  going  to  lose  a  crop 
if  something  is  not  done !  Can't  you  suggest  something  that 
will  stimulate  this  resolution  and  will  power  which  you  pre- 
scribe?" This  request  from  the  good  and  earnest  husband  w^as 
more  than  I  could  resist,  and  I  promised  to  give  him  a  "sure 
cure,"  provided  he  would  protect  me,  and  carry  my  directions 
out  to  the  letter.  This  he  readily  agreed  to,  and  I  proceeded : 
You  tell  your  wife  that  you  are  satisfied,  after  talking  with 
me,  that  she  cannot  live  long,  and  that  if  she  does  any  work 
she  is  liable  to  die  any  time  ;  that  she  must  have  a  girl  to 
do  the  kitchen  work.  Then  you  go  and  get  the  best  looking 
girl  you  can  find  and  give  her  full  control  of  the  kitchen. 
That  is  not  all ;  give  the  girl  considerable  attention.  When  you 
return  from  your  work  enter  the  kitchen  first,  converse  with 
the  girl  a  while,  then  go  in  and  see  your  wife.  If  this  fails 
let  me  know  and  I'll  try  some  other  remedy.  He  thanked 
me,  and  promised  that  he  would  comply  with  my  simple  and 
pleasant  advice.  I  heard  nothing  more  for  some  weeks,  but 
I  knew  that  something  had  happened,  because  I  received  no 
more  calls  to  that  place.  Finally  I  met  him  and  asked  how 
things  worked,  and  he  said  "fine;"  and  then  he  made  the  fol- 
lowing statement:  "I  told  her  that  she  could  not  live  long, 
and  that  she  would  be  likely  to  die  any  time  if  she  did  any 
work,  and  we  must  have  a  girl.  She  agreed  to  this,  and  said, 
"Go  and  get  Sallie ,  for  she  is  the  only  girl  I  will  have 

87 


on  the  place."  That  suited  me  exactly,  and  I  had  Sallie ' 
there  within  two  hours.  Sallie  went  to  work,  and  I  gave  her 
all  the  attention  necessary,  and  it  seemed  to  agree  with  Sal- 
lie's  sentiments.  My  wife  became  almost  helpless ;  we  had 
to  carry  her  meals  to  her  bed,  and  I  thought  for  a  time  that 
your  plan  was  a  failure ;  she  had  crying  spells,  and  began 
to  beg  me  to  send  for  you.  She  would  have  Sallie  sit  and 
rub  her  for  hours,  to  keep  up  her  circulation.  She  thought 
lots  of  Sallie  and  Sallie  thought  lots  of  her.  One  day  after 
I  had  gone  to  the  farm,  my  wife  called  Sallie  in  and  told  her, 
with  tears  streaming  down  her  cheeks,  that  she  would  not 
live  long,  and  was  liable  to  die  at  any  moment ;  and  that 
she  had  one  request  to  make  of  her,  and  that  was  to  marry 
her  husband  after  her  death  and  bring  up  her  little  children. 
Sallie  was  greatly  affected  by  this  death-bed  request,  and 
the  poor  girl  broke  down  and  said:  "Your  husband  has  al- 
ready spoken  to  me  about  that!"  The  next  moment  m}^  wife 
was  skipping  about  the  house,  and  Sallie  was  pulling  for 
home  with  her  little  bundle  of  clothes  under  her  arm.  When 
I  returned,  the  smoke  was  boiling  out  of  the  chimney,  the 
dishes  were  rattling  as  I  had  never  heard  them  before,  and 
a  good  dinner  was  waiting  for  me,  all  prepared  by  the  hands 
of  my  own  dear  wife,  who,  as  I  entered,  exclaimed :  'T  am 
well!  I  don't  need  any  girl  to  raise  up  my  children!  I'm  not 
going  to  die  for  a  long  time !"  And  she  has  never  had  a  sick 
spell  since." 

While  the  husband  may  have  kept  his  promise  to  protect 
me  by  not  telling  his  wife  that  I  had  prescribed  such  course 
of  treatment,  it  is  a  fact  worthy  of  note,  that  I  never  did  any 
more  practice  in  that  family.  Other  children  came  and  they 
got  sick,  but  other  physicians  were  called. 


ss 


FOGY  PRACTICE. 


During  my  early  medical 
career,  when  I  enjoyed  fun- 
ny things,  and  possessed 
the  patience  of  Job,  and  had 
very  few  of  the  kind  of  pa- 
tients essential  to  a  doc- 
tor's success,  I  had  a  case 
which  may  be  classed  un- 
der the  head  of  "fogy  prac- 
tice." I  hesitate,  however,  to  state  all  the  facts  as  they  re- 
ally exist,  because  my  patient  is  living  yet  and  is  no  cow- 
ard, but  as  he  is  a  very  dear  friend  of  mine,  probably  I 
can   claim    exemption    under    that   pretext. 

My  patient  was  a  doctor,  but  not  a  graduate.  He  had 
never  seen  a  medical  school.  He  believed  that  medical 
schools  were  a  curse  to  the  country.  His  niedical  knowl- 
edge had  been  handed  down  to  him  through  four  gener- 
ations. Some  of  his  uncles,  grand-uncles  and  great  grand- 
uncles  had  been  doctors,  and  he  was  in  full  possession  of 
all  the  specifics  and  cure-alls  known  to  all  his  ancestors 
and  pre-ancestors.  Of  course,  he  believed  in  cat-skin  poul- 
tices in  pneumonia,  snuff  in  confinement  cases,  mad  stones 
in  hydrophobia,  sheep  tea  in  measles,  the  blood  of  a  black 
cat's  tail  in  shingles,  in  drawing  the  fire  out  of  a  burn  by 
holding  the  part  burned  to  the  fire  that  produced  the  burn, 
in  pulling  the  hair  on  top  of  his  head  to  raise  a  fallen  palate 
and  that  the  bark  of  the  butternut,  which  has  been  peeled 
upward  will  vomit,  while  that  which  has  been  peeled  down- 
ward will  purge. 

The  doctor  enjoyed  a  more  extensive  practice  than  I  had, 
because  most  of  his  remedies  were  infallible,  and  were 
"known  to  all  the  grandmothers  in  that  locality  as  such.  But 
he  got  sick  and  sent  for  me;  not  to  prescribe,  but  to  admin- 
ister his  own  remedy.     When  I  reached  his  bedside,  I  found 


89 


him  sprawled  and  looking  desperately  sick,  and  his  good 
wife  by  his  side  fanning  the  flies  away,  which  seemed  to 
have  a  special  hankering  after  the  corners  of  his  mouth 
and  eyes.  I  inquired,  Doctor,  what's  the  matter?  He  re- 
plied in  a  weak,  sickly  tone,  "My  palate  is  down."  He 
drew  his  own  words  out  like  taffy  at  a  country  candy  pulling, 
and  they  escaped  principally  through  his  nose,  which  gave 
them  a  ring  s-milar  to  that  of  a  tin  horn.  I  replied,  well 
what  can  we  do  for  you?  He  remarked,  "I  have  a  never 
failing  remedy,  but  can't  use  it  on  myself."  What  is  it?  I 
asked.  "I  have  my  patient  to  lie  down  on  the  floor  and  stif- 
fen liimself  and  I  take  hold  oi  the  hair  on  top  of  his  head 
and  lift  him  onto  his  feet."  I  remarked,  that  is  a  good  rem- 
edy!  Did  you  ever  use  it  on  women?  "Yes;  many  a  time," 
came  his  reply.  On  children?  I  asked.  "Yes!  Hundreds 
of  times."  I  then  examined  him  and  found  that  he  had 
nothing  the  matter  except  a  relaxed  condition  of  the  uvula, 
and  was  frightened  about  his  palate;  and  inasmuch  as  he 
had  punished  women  and  children  with  his  "never  failing 
remedy,"  I  felt  real  anxious  to  give  him  a  dose  or  two  of 
his  own  medicine;  so  I  said,  your  remedy  is  better  than  any- 
thing I  have,  and  I  think  I  can  administer  it  in  a  scientific 
(?)  way.  He  crawled  out  of  bed  and  stretched  himself  on 
the  floor.  His  hair  was  long,  and  I  had  no  trouble  in  get- 
ting a  firm  hold.  Now,  ready!  Stiffen  yovirself!  Take  a 
deep  breath  !  Keep  your  mouth  shut  tightly !  were  my  com- 
mands, and  with  one  tremendous  jerk  I  sat  him  upon  his 
feet.  Now.  open  your  mouth!  Poke  your  tongue  out! 
That  helped!  Try  it  again?  Down  he  went  the  second 
time,  and  I  repeated  the  dose  quicker  than  before",  and  as 
he  lit  on  his  feet  he  uttered  a  groan  which  revealed  the  fact 
that  he  had  enough.  I  then  looked  in  his  throat,  and  ex- 
claimed, nearly  well!  One  more  time  will  make  it  all 
right!  He  rolled  his  white  eyes  toward  me,  sighed  dee]i- 
ly,  and  said  :  "I  think  it  is  all  right  now,"  and  tumbled  onto 
the  bed,  and  turned  his  back  to  me.  I  then  suggested  a  few 
doses  of  quinine,  and  an  astringent  wash  for  his  throat,  and 
departed.  As  T  passed  out  of  the  room,  T  noticed  him  feel- 
ing the  top  of  his  head  to  see  if  it  were  all  there. 


90 


GRANDPA'S  BUTTER. 


The  following  story 
was  told  to  me  by  my 
father,  and,  of  course, 
must  be  true: 

Early  in  the  Nineteenth 
Century  my  great  grand 
father  owned  a  'flock  of 
sheep,  among  which  was  a 
~  ram  known  to  all  the 
grandchildren  as  "Grandpa's  Butter."  The  lot  in  which 
the  sheep  were  kept  at  night,  was  near  a  stream,  and  the 
bank  of  the  creek  constituted  the  fence  on  that  side.  Some 
of  the  grandsons  had  been  practicing  with  the  old  ram  and 
had  him  trained  so  that  when  tempted  by  a  nod  of  the  head 
he  would  butt.  Finally,  some  of  the  boys  devised  a  plan  to 
duck  the  old  sheep — thinking  it  might  break  him  of  his  bad 
habit.  After  tempting  the  animlal  till  he  made  his  lunge  at 
them,  they  would  drop  to  the  ground  in  order  to  prevent 
the  sheep's  head  from  coming  in  contact  with  their  own, 
and  he  would  pass  over  them,  missing  his  mark,  and  then 
walk  around  and  back  off  for  another  trial,  as  his  disappoint- 
ment only  aggravated  him,  and  caused  him  to  butt  quicker 
and  harder  the  next  time.  After  he  became  quite  angry 
and  bold,  one  day  one  of  the  boys  stood  on  the  bank,  which 
was  eight  feet  high  and  over  a  deep  pool  of  water,  and 
leaned  forward  and  gave  a  nod  or  two  at  the  old  ram, 
and  here  he  came  in  full  tilt  and  the  boy  dropped  to  the 
ground,  while  the  sheep  passed  on  over  the  bank,  lighting 
in  the  pool  of  water.  The  boys  had  just  succeeded  in 
getting  him  out  of  the  water  and  back  into  the  lot,  and 
were  preparing  for  another  demonstration,  when  Grand- 
pa came  upon  them  and  required  an  explanation  of  such 
unhuman  conduct  toward  a  dumb  brute,  and  threatened  to 
take,  a  hickory  and  thrash  every  one  who  took  part  in  such 


9T 


an  act  again.  "Poor  old  sheep,"  he  said.  "Who  could 
blame  you  for  butting  at  such  wicked  and  unruly  boys. 
They  shall  not  punish  you  any  more."  The  boys  thought 
it  best  to  vacate  that  place  till  Grandpa's  temper  subsided, 
and  they  went  away,  but  when  a  few  rods  off  they  looked 
back  to  see  if  they  were  being  pursued,  when  they  noticed 
that  Grandpa  had  permitted  his  own  curiosity  to  be  ex- 
cited, and  he  was  evidently  taking  some  scientific  observations 
of  animal  nature.  He  gazed  at  the  old  sheep  with  appar- 
ent amazement,  while  he  himlself  Avas  standing  near  this 
bank  over  which  the  angry  ram  had  just  leaped,  and  not 
expecting  that  the  much  abused  victim  could  fail  to  appre- 
ciate his  kind  act  in  rescuing  him,  he  remarked,  "Come  and 
butt  with  Granpa,"  at  the  same  time  nodding  his  head. 
This  was  sufficient.  The  sheep  came  in  full  tilt,  and  as 
Grandpa  turned  to  retreat,  landed  a  terriffic  blow  just 
where  Grandpa's  legs  .were  joined  to  his  body,  and  both 
went  over  the  bank,  plunging  into  the  water.  The  boys 
saw  this  caper  and  ran  back  and  rescued  both,  when  Grand- 
pa exclaimed  in  a  crabbid  and  angry  tone,  "Boys,  take  that 

sheep  to  town  and  sell  him  to  the  first  butcher  you 

can  find,  and  spend  the  money  he  brings  for  some  good  lin- 
iment— for  bruises,  and  hurrv  back." 


BACK  BITING. 


The  author  of  the  fol- 
lowing story  is  a  very 
prominent  minister,  whose 
name  I  have  not  secured 
permission  to  publish,  but 
it  appeared  so  rich  and  in- 
structive, as  he  presented 
it,  that  I  shall  repeat  it, 
on  account  of  the  forcible 
manher  in  which  it  illus- 
trates the  human  nature  that  some  animals  possess,  and 
how  an  innocent  being  may  be  crippled  for  life. 


92 


"I  chanced  to  call  at  the  gate  of  an  Indian  in  the  Indian 
Territory,  and  noticed  an  old  worthless  looking  donkey 
backing  up  to  a  very  fine  cow.  The  cow  moved  away,  but 
the  donkey  followed,  and  again  jammed  his  back  up  to  her 
nose,  and  the  cow  again  stepped  to  one  side,  when  the  don- 
key backed  up  to  her  the  third  time ;  then  the  cow  walked 
away  in  disgust.  This  time  the  donkey  got  angry  and  be- 
came furious.  He  reared  and  kicked  with  both  feet,  and 
then  leaped  toward  the  cow  and  began  to  bite  her  back.  "I 
said,  look,  that  donkey  will  kill  your  cow !"  The  Indian 
said,  "He  bites  her  back  with  his  mouth,  because  she  will 
not  lick  him  where  he  wants  her  to."  This  is  the  way  some 
people  will  serve  you  if  you  don't  serve  them. 


HOW    TO    CLEAN    A    CHIMNEY. 

Cleaning  chimneys  and  flues  was  a  difficult  and  dirty  task 
till    the    instantaneous    method   was   introduced   a   few   years 

ago  by  a  gentleman  in  ,  Mo.     His  method  is  one  that 

does  its  work  quickly,  when  it  goes  the  right  way ;  but  ow- 
ing to  the  fact  that  it  usually  goes  the  wrong  way,  it  is 
not  to  be  recommended,  except  to  parties  who  you  think 
have  spent  about  enough  of  their  time  in  this  world.  In 
one  of  the  leading  saloons  there,  and  the  word  "leading''  is 
a  very  indefinite  quantity  when  applied  to  the  saloon  in 
that  beautiful  little  city,  for  all  the  saloons  are  in  the  lead 
there.  That  is  one  of  the  towns  in  which  the  W.  C.  T.  U. 
and  the  Y.  M.  C.  A.  cannot  find  sufficient  material  to  effect 
an  organization.  Well,  in  one  of  the  saloons  the  chimney, 
or  flue,  became  stopped  so  that  the  smoke  did  not  escape 
through  it,  and  the  proprietor  began  preparations  for  clean- 
ing it,  when  one  of  his  regular  customers  entered  and  re- 
marked. "Let  me  show  you  how  to  clean  a  flue.  I'll  do  it 
so  quick  it  will  make  your  head  swim  to  look  at  it.  Get 
nie  a  pound  of  powder!     Give  me  a  plank  about   12  by  20. 

93 


Give  me  a  match !"  He  placed  a  box  near  the  wall,  and  a 
smaller  box  on  that,  mounted  them,  struck  his  match  and 
lighted  the  paper  containing  the  powder,  which  he  had  al- 
ready placed  in  the  flue  through  the  stove-pipe  hole,  then 
thrust  his  plank  over  the  hole,  pushing  with  all  his  power, 

saying,  "Now  see  me  blow  every  bit  of  the  soot  out  at 

the  top."  Just  then  the  thing  went  off,  but  instead  of  going 
out  at  the  top,  it  came  out  at  the  same  place  it  went  in,  and 
this  ingenious  inventor  went  with  it.  Soon  as  the  smoke 
cleared  away  sufficiently  to  see.  he  was  picked  up  by  his 
friends  from  about  the  center  of  the  floor,- and  your  humble 
servant  sent  for  in  haste.  When  I  arrived,  I  beheld  a  funny 
and  pitiful  aspect.  Yes,  I  felt  sorry  awhile,  and  had  'to 
laugh  awhile.  All  his  hair,  eye-brows,  lashes,  and  whiskers 
were  burned  off,  and  an  effort  to  wipe  the  black  powder 
from  his  fat  face  and  red  nose,  took  the  skin  in  great  flakes. 
I  spent  several  days  in  scraping  and  picking  powder  out  of 
his  eye  balls  and  face,  and  finally  restored  him  to  his  aver- 
age  normal   condition. 

I  think  I  hear  some  of  my  professional  brethren  ask  a 
question,  to  which  I  reply,  no,  he  never  paid  me,  but  T  got 
the  worth  of  my  services  in  pure  fun.  for  I  certainly  en- 
joyed his  unique  method  of  cleaning  flues.  In  fact,  I  woke 
up  in  the  night  to  take  a  good  laugh  at  his  marvelous  in- 
vention. 


A    FAITHFUL    MINISTER. 

In  relating  this  story  I  have  no  des-'re  or  inclination  to 
cast  the  least  reflection  or  sarcasm  on  a  minister  of  the 
Gos]5el.  I  think,  I  believe,  I  know!  that  a  minister  who  is 
all  that  he  claims  to  be,  is  one  of  the  best  men  under  the 
sun ;  but  while  that  is  the  case,  the  one  who  is  not  what 
he  pretends  to  be,  is  one  of  the  very  worst,  because  he  is 
a  hypocrite,  iand  hypocrites  in  the  church  do  much  harm,  be- 
cause weak-minded  skeptics  or  infidels  are  always  pointing 
to  the  hypocrites  in  the  church.     They  make  capital  of  the 

94 


fact  that  there  are  some  hypocrites  in  the  church,  but  they 
fail  to  realize  that  there  are  many  more  hypocrites  out  of  the 
church  than  in  it. 

The  minister  I  wish  to  write  about  is  a  true  Christian. 
He  is  all  that  he  pretends  to  be.  Nearly  forty  years  ago 
he  began  his  work  in  the  ministry,  and  has  moved  stead- 
fastly onward  ever  since.  The  first  severe  ordeal  or  test 
of  his  faithfulness  occurred  soon  after  he  enlisted  in  his 
campaign  for  the  Lord.  He  was  yet  in  his  teens.  He  had 
a  small  brother  whom  he  desired  to  have  follow  his  own 
example.  One  day,  he  and  his  little  brother,  Willie,  took 
the  dog  and  an  axe,  and  went  out  to  catch  a  rabbit  for  sup- 
per. Soon  the  dog  began  smelling  and  barking  at  an  old 
hollow  tree,  and  this  young  preacher  lost  no  time  in  chop- 
ping, a  hole  in  the  tree,  so  as  to  reach  in  and  take  the  rabbit 
out  with  ease  to  both  himself  and  the  rabbit,  at  the  same 
time  remarking.  "Willie,  we  are  sure  of  a  rabbit  this  time." 
Soon  he  had  a  hole  large  enough  to  admit  his  hand  and  witli- 
draw  his  innocent  victim.  He  reached  down  and  puf  his 
hand  on  what  he  was  sure  was  the  tender  form  of  a  gentle 
rabbit,  saying,  '*I  feel  his  little  head.  He  acts  like  he  is 
trying  to  bite ;  but  rabbits  never  bite."  Just  then  the  young 
divine  jerked  his  arm  and  hand  out  of  the  tree  and  an  old 
o'possum  was  hanging  to  his  finger.  It  liad  fastened  its 
sharp  teeth  so  firmly  into  his  hand  that  he  could  not  re- 
lease himself  from  its  terrible  grasp.  The  dog  seized  the 
vermin  by  the  hind  legs  and  pulled  with  all  h's  might  while 
little  Willie  stood  by  hissing  the  dog  on  by  slapping  h's 
little  hands.  The  minister  did  not  lose  presence  of  mind, 
nor  fail  to  control  his  temper,  but  rolling  his  very  large 
brown  eyes  upward,  exclaimed,  "Oh,  Lord,  we  now  invoke 
Thy  aid  and  will  be  very  thankful  if  Thou  wilt  make  a 
little  more  haste  than  usual."  Just  then  the  dog  caught 
ihe  opossum  around  the  ribs,  and  its  jaws  came  unlocked. 
The  minister  never  manifested  the  least  disposition  to  anger, 
but  he  skinned,  carved,  cooked,  ate  and  digested  that  un- 
fortunate animal  with  more  relish  than  anything  he  had 
ever  tackled  before. 


95 


A    CALF    STORY. 

BY  A  WOMAN. 

While  conversing  with  a  prominent  lady  of  Oklahoma 
City  recently  she  related  the  following  story,  but  requested 
that  her  name  be  withheld  in  case  the  story  is  printed,  on 
account  of  her  respect  for  her  father: 

"I  was  raised  in  Cass  County,  Mo.  My  father  was  a 
farmer  and  owned  several  milch  cows,  and  had  a  large 
family  of  boys  and  girls  to  do  the  milking.  It  was  cus- 
tomary for  the  small  boys  to  ride  the  calves  as  soon  as  they 
were  large  enough  to  jump  around  and  make  it  interest- 
ing. One  of  the  calves  was  a  very  strong  fellow,  and  the 
boys  were  unable  to  manage  him,  but  they  would  not  cease 
trying.  AVhile  we  were  milking  one  evening,  after  dark 
had  overtaken  us,  father  came  to  see  why  we  remained 
so  late,  and  brought  a  lantern  to  light  his  path.  He  was 
lecturing  two  of  my  brothers  for  tormenting  the  calves  when 
this  unruly  calf  suddenly  jerked  loose  from  one  of  the  boys 
and  made  a  lunge  to  get  away.  In  doing  so.  he  ran  under 
father,  who  was  tall  and  slender,  and  father  lodged  on  top 
of  the  calf's  shoulders.  The  calf  became  terribly  frightened 
at  the  lantern  which  was  on  father's  arm,  and  it  dashed 
off,  bucking  and  bawling,  down  the  slant  at  a  rapid  rate. 
From  the  light  of  the  lantern,  we  could  tell  that  father  v/as 
staying  on  top,  in  fact,  he  was  afraid  to  try  to  jump  off,  till 
he  knew  that  the  frightened  calf  was  nearing  a  wire  fence. 
Then  he  tumbled  to  one  side,  and  let  the  calf  go  on.  Father 
was  not  hurt,  except  his  feelings,  but  he  came  back  to  the 
gate  in  search  of  the  boys,  but  instinct  had  informed  my 
brothers  that  it  was  better  to  vacate  that  spot  for  the 
present.  Father  was  usually  kind  to  his  children,  and  never 
resorted  to  corporal  punishment,  except  in  extreme  cases, 
and  then,  if  the  matter  was  postponed  a  few  hours,  he 
would    neglect    it    entirely.      This    was    an    emergency    case. 

96 


however,  and  the  boys  knew  it,  so  they  remained  absent 
until  the  next  day.  We  supposed  that  they  slept  in  the  barn 
loft  that  night/' 

The  above  story,  as  related  by  this  lady,  a  farmer's 
daughter,  has  the  melody  of  truth  about  it,  and  in  perfect 
harmony  I  hear  all  say,  "It  is  true."  What  farmer  boy  cannot 
recall  when  he  rode  the  calves  contrary  to  the  will  of  his 
parents?  Well  does  the  writer  remember  when  he  rode 
everything  from  the  old  turkey  gobbler  up  to  the  wildest 
mules,  including  the  fretful  ox,  the  squealing  pig,  the  panting 
dog,  the  butting  ram,  the  bucking  pony,  and  everything 
else  that  wore  four  feet.  By  this  expression  I  do  not  in- 
tend to  convey  the  idea  that  the  turkey  gobbler  had  four 
feet. 


"A    NICE    MUT-TING." 

When  a  boy,  I  was  more  bashful  than  the  average.  My 
dear  mother  was  so.  cautious  and  affectionate  toward  her 
children,  that  she  would  not  allow  them  out  of  her  sight 
long  at  a  time,  and  we  had  but  little  opportunity  to  get  ac- 
quainted with  the  things  of  this  world,  and  were  not  ready 
to  enter  any  other.  I  tell  you  the  truth  when  I  say  that 
I  was  never  out  of  sight  of  my  mother  two  days  at  any  one 
time  till  after  I  was  over  twenty-one  years  of  age.  I  never 
learned  to  swim,  because,  when  I  wanted  to  try,  she"  would 
make  me  promise  to  not  go  near  the  water.  With  such 
restrictions,  I  was  bound  to  be  timid  and  bashful,  but  when 
about  twenty  years  old,  I  managed,  in  some  way,  to  fall 
partly  in  love  with  a  little  school  miss,  and  had  I  not  met 
with  an  accident,  I  may  have  fallen  all  the  way,  because 
my  mother  admired  the  little  teacher,  and  tha't  was  greatly 
in  my  favor,  for  I'had  but  little  opportunity  to  make  love 
to   a  girl  whom   mother  did   not   like.     At   that   time,    I   did 

97 


not  know  the  first  step  toward  courtship,  but  could  stand  and 
grin  occasionally  while  the  girl  did  the  sparking.  Mollie 
had  taught  a  few  country  schools,  and  knew  more  than  the 
average  girl  of  that  day  and  time.  She  could  say  many 
funny  things  that  interested  me,  and  as  green  as  I  was,  I 
could  see  that  she  did  not  intend  every  thing  she  said  for 
an  idle  joke.  Soon  I  noticed  that  Mollie's  father  was  greatly 
interested  in  me,  and  I  also  noticed  that  my  mother  was 
taking  as  much  interest  in  Mollie.  So  things  were  be- 
ginning to  ''kinda  jingle,"  and  I  didn't  care  if  they  did, 
for  I  felt  able  to  stand  all  that  they  might  wish  to  thrust 
upon   me  of  that  nature. 

One  warm  Saturday  Mollie's  father  sent  word  to  my 
mother  that  he  and  his  daughter  would  spend  Sunday  with 
us.  Mother  came  to  me  and  said:  "Johnny,  son;  Mollie' 
and  her  father  are  coming  to  spend  Sunday  with  us,  and  we 
ought  to  have  a  nice,  fat  lamb  for  dinner.  Can  you  go  and 
find  one  and  dress  it?"  "Yes,  I'll  try,"  I  replied.  Our 
sheep  roamed  in  the  forest  for  two  miles  around,  and  it  was 
no  little  task  to  bring  one  in  on  a  hot  day,  but  I  took  a  hand- 
ful of  salt  in  a  rag,  and  started  out.  and  found  some  of  our 
best  sheep  about  one  mile  from  home.  I  called  to  them, 
and  let  them  taste  the  salt,  but  some  one  had  evidently 
given  them  all  the  salt  they  wanted,  for  not  one  would  fol- 
low me.  Then  I  tried  to  drive  them,  and  that  was  a  failure 
also.      So,   as   a   last   resort,    I   selected   a   nice   fat   one.   and 

iff-w  all  my  salt  on  the  ground  in  one  pile,  and  as  they 
gathered  around  it,  I  grabbed  my  choice  and  held  onto  him. 
I  first  tried  to  lead  it  but  that  was  impossible,  and  I  saw 
no  way  to  get  that  sheep  home  except  to  carry  it,  and  that 
was  a  job  for  a  boy  my  size.  But  Mollie  must  have  her 
mutton,  and  I  had  the  courage  to  furnish  it.  So  I  grasped 
the  sheep  around  the  body,  and  with  much  effort,  threw 
it  onto  my  shoulder,  when  with  a  hump,  a  flounce  and  a 
few  kicks,  it  tore  the  entire  back  of  my  shirt  out  at  the 
yoke,  which  fell  down  behind  me  like  an  apron,  and  with  its 
sharp  toes  my  back  was  ploughed  up  unmercifully.  I  could 
not  stand  this,  and  turned  the  thing  over  so  its  feet  would 
be  upward ;  then  it  caught  the  rim  of  my  hat,  which  was 
braided   of   straw,   and  with    a  terrible  kick,   tore   the  entire 

98 


rim  off  the  crown,  and  it  fell  down  around  my  neck,  but 
I  did  not  take  time  to  fix  it.  I  kept  the  sheep  up  there  just 
the  same,  but  did  not  keep  my  temper  down  entirely.  I 
went  home  in  that  condition,  and  at  the  barn  seized 
an  axe,  and  cut  that  sheep's  head  off  at  one  swipe,  and  had 
the  hide  off  by  the  time  it  quit  kicking.  Then,  with  hat- 
rim  still  around  my  neck,  and  the  back  of  my  shirt  re- 
versed, exposing  by  lacerated  back,  I  carried  the  fresh  meat 
to  a  bench  at  our  kitchen  door,  and  began  to  carve  it  into 
pieces  to  suit,  when  I  thought,  "Oh !  What  if  JNIollie  should 
see  me  in  this  condition?"  Just  then  I  heard  a  sweet  voice 
ring  out  behind  me,  "A  nice  mut-ting!"  I  looked  around, 
and  behold,  it  was  Mollie !  They  had  come  on  Saturday 
instead  of  waiting  till  Sunday.  They  remained  over  and  en- 
joyed their  "mut-ting,"  but  I  could  not  raise  a  grin,  nor 
speak  a  word.  That  was  their  last  visit.  I  saw  them  a  few 
times  after  that,  but  could  not  get  started  just  right,  and  had 
to  content  myself  with  the  echo,  "A  nice  mut-ting." 


ACTUAL  EXPERIENCE. 

The  following  dialogue  took  place  in  my  presence  while 
a  member  of  the  Board  of  Examining  Surgeons  for  Pensions 
at   Rolla,  Mo.,  in   1891 ; 

Secretary    (to  applicant) — Do  you   cough   much  ? 

Applicant — Yes,  sir,  a  great  deal. 

Secretary — Do  you  expectorate  anything? 

Applicant — Yes,  sir,  I  do. 

Secretary — What   do  you   expectorate? 

Applicant  (earnestly) — If  I  get  justice  I  expect  to  rate 
about  $30  per  month. 


A  SERIOUS  MISTAKE. 

Owing  to  my   high    esteem   and   warm   friendship   for  the 
parties    concerned    in    the    following    incident,    I    hesitate    to 

99 


repeat  it ;  but  since  it  is  most  too  good  to  keep,  and  can  do 
no  one  any,  harm,  I  will  give  the  facts  in  brief. 

I  was  sitting  in  the  office  of  one  of  the  hotels  in  a  Mis- 
souri town,  when  a  boy  entered  and  exclaimed :  "Sally 
has  bursted !"  A  strange  physician  who  had  just  arrived 
seeking  a  new  location,  turned  to  me  and  asked :  "What 
was  the  matter  with  that  young  lady?"  I  asked  him,  what 
lady?  He  then  said,  "The  young  lady  who  that  boy  said 
had  bursted — it  is  Miss  Sallie — somebody."  I  then  saw  the 
point,  and  explained  to  him  that  a  very  prominent  business 
man  of  the  town  by  the  name  of  Sally  had  failed  in  busi- 
ness, bursted  financially.  The  new  doctor  apologized,  but 
the  joke  spread  and  was  repeated  so  much  in  his  presence 
that  he  sought  "a  location  elsewhere. 


A  SURE  SHOT. 


Mrs.  S. — Pray  tell  me  what  to  put  in  my  son's  ear.  He 
has  been   suffering  with   earache   three  days? 

Mrs.  W. — Take  oil  of  spike  and  laudanum.  I  have  had 
two  husbands  and  three  children  to  die  with  earache,  and 
I  always  use  oil  of  spike  and  laudanum. 


Physician  (To  a  quack  doctor) — Have  you  ever  had  a  case 
of  cerebral  thrombosis? 

Quack  Doctor — Yes,  I  had  a  severe  attack  in  my  own 
bowels  once. 


Physician  (To  quack  doctor) — Have  you  had  much  exper- 
ience with  phlegmasia  alba  dolens? 

Quack  Doctor— Oh!  Certainly!  I  have  given  it  in  hundreds 
of  cases. 


DON'T  BE  AFRAID. 

J.  L.  S. 

Oh !  what  if  I  should  die, 

And  my  spirit  take  its  flight? 

And  this  is  sure  to  be,  for  I 

Must  pass  through  death's  dark  night. 

How  soon  this  change  may  be, 

No  one  can  just  now  tell; 
But  it  is  plain  to  see, 

We  must  bid  all  farewell. 

But  when  I  am  thus  gone. 

Will  such  thing  ever  be. 
That  friends  who   knew   me   long, 

Will* be  afraid  of  me? 

When   my   body   has   to   die, 
Will   those  who  love   me  most. 

Still  wish  my  spirit  nigh. 

Or  be   frightened   at   my   ghost? 

All  friends  I  cheerfully  greet, 

And  I  promise  this  is  true : 
Should   you   my   ghostship   meet, 

It  will  do  no  harm  to  you. 

Should  you  by  fancy  chance  to  be 

Viewing  my  spirit  fair. 
Just  go  at  once   and  plainly  see 

That  no  such  thing  is  there. 

We  hear  of  many  ghosts  though, 
But  no  harm  has  been  done, 

Since  the  world  began  to  go. 
By  such  things  to  anyone. 


HOW    I    PLAYED    GHOST. 

BY    HENRY    W.    ROBY,    M.    D.,    SECRETARY    STATE    BOARD    OF    MEDICAL 
REGISTRATION    AND    EXAMINATION,    TOPEKA,    KANS. 

I  never  played  ghost  but  once  and  then  I  came  off  sec- 
ond best.     This  is  how  it  happened : 

Dr.  Wm.  Hoefer  of  Harmony  township.  Morrow  county, 
Ohio,  lived  on  one  of  my  grandfather's  farms  and  had  one 
very  serious  failing,  he  loved  his  grog  better  than  any  sailor 
I  ever  knew,  and  in  time  common  whiskey  became  entirely 
too  mild  a  drink  for  him  and  he  abandoned  that  for  what  is 
known  out  West  as  "white  horse" — pure  alcohol.  He  could 
carry  a  tremendous  load  of  it  and  still  keep  his  feet.  When 
sober  he  was  a  very  skillful  physician  and  was  admired  by 
almost  everybody  for  his  genial  and  kindly  ways. 

As  far  back  as  I  can  remember,  it  was  the  custom  of 
my  grandfather  to  have  a  big  Christmas  dinner  every  year 
and  have  all  his  children  and  grandchildren  come  home  to 
the  old  capacious  farm  house  for  a  good  time,  and  a  con- 
tinuous feast  of  apples,  doughnuts,  cider,  walnuts,  chest- 
nuts, hickory  nuts  and  many  other  good  things,  and  being 
the  family  physician  Dr.  Hoefer  was  for  many  years  one 
of  the  Christmas  guests  of  my  grandfather. 

A  young  uncle  of  mine,  not  much  older  than  myself. 
often  said  he  would  like  to  scare  Dr.  Hoefer  out  of  his  cups 
and  make  a  sober  man  of  him.  and  on  the  occasion  I  speak  of 
his  impulse  culminated  in  action. 

Just  before  the  party  broke  up  for  the  night  he  called 
me  out  into  the  kitchen  and  asked  me  to  join  him  in  the 
play  of  ghost,  when  the  old  doctor  started  home.  It  seemed 
an  auspicious  occasion,  for  the  good  old  esculapian  had  vis- 
ited the  kitchen  close  to  a  dozen  time  that  evening  and 
made  way  with  large  quantities  of  his  favorite  stimulant, 
and  was  very  mellow  and  wobbly  by  the  time  the  party 
broke   up. 


In  going  home  he  had  to  cross  a  40-acre  woodlot  by  a 
diagonal  cow  path  through  a  dense  growth  of  beech,  hickory, 
ash  and  chestnut  timber.  A  light  snow  had  fallen  that  af- 
ternoon and  the  woodlot  was  a  scene  of  white  beauty  ill  the 
moon   light. 

When  we  saw  the  doctor  getting  ready  to  start  we  se- 
cured a  couple  of  sheets  and  ran  on  ahead  into  the  timber, 
and  robed  ourselves  in  white  and  waited  his  appearance. 
We  planted  ourselves  in  his  pathway  and  soon  heard  him 
coming,  talking  to  himself,  as  was  his  custom  when  alone 
with  a  "jag"  on.  When  he  saw  us  he  stopped  and  ex- 
claimed: "Got  in  Himmel!  Vat  ish  dot?  Hoefer  you  vas 
trunk,  odher  dot  vas  a  ghost."  He  stood  a  mioment  in  si- 
lence, and  then  said :  "Veil,  I  find  oud."  Then  in  a  louder 
voice  he  said,  "Voo  yo  vas?  Vos  you  mine  fadder  or  mine 
mutter?  Fadder!  Mutter!  Could  you  not  speak  or  how? 
If  you  vos  mine  fadder  and  mine  mutter,  speak  mit  me! 
Could   3^ou    not    speak    or   how?" 

You  may  be  sure  we  wanted  to  speak,  but  we  did  not 
dare  to.  and  it  was  hard  to  keep  from  breaking  out  in  a 
roar  of  laughter.  But  we  kept  on  with  our  witche's  dance, 
at  a  respectful  distance  from  the  old  doctor,  and  managed 
to  keep  silent.  Then,  as  he  quit  the  path  and  started  towards 
us,  we  heard  him  say,  "I  find  me  out  vot  dot  vas !"  Then 
stopping  suddenly,  he  said,  "Veil,  of  you  vas  not  mine  fad- 
der or  mine  mutter,  und  you  don't  could  speak,  I  dink  I 
know  vot  you  vas!     I  dink  you  vos  an  olt  cow  mit  a  calf!" 

Then  he  gave  a  long,  loud  groan  in  an  abusive  tone  and 
turned  back  into  the  footpath  and  went  on  his  way,  ignor- 
ing us  entirely. 

After  he  had  gone,  we  went  back  to  the  house  not  as 
hilarious  and  triumphant  as  we  had  hoped  to  be,  and  that 
was  the  last  time  I  ever  attempted  the  role  of  a  ghost. 


103 


MY   FIRST  TOOTH-PULL   BY  A   HORSE. 

A  TRUE  STORY.     BY   DR.  MICHAEL  MASON.  MfSKEGON.  MICH. 

As  I  was  cantering  near  the  meadow  of  Alonzo  Story 
where  four  men  were  making  hay,  I  was  hailed  by  one  of 
the  men  and  requested  to  halt,  which  I  did.  All  of  the  men 
hurriedly  approached  me.  "Dr.  Mason,  I  believe?"  I  an- 
swered, "Your  conclusion  is  correct." 

"Do  you  pull  teeth?" 

"I  can,"  was  my  reply,  "but  I  extract  teeth.'' 

''What  is   the  difference,"   was  asked. 

I  said  pulling  was  50  cents  and  extracting  was  a  dollar 

He  said,  "I  will  have  it  pulled,  I  am  not  stuck  on  these 
new  fangled  fancy  jobs." 

"Very  well,"  I  told  him,  "come  up  and  let  me  see  the 
tooth." 

So  he  mounted  an  eight-rail  fence,  threw  up  his  head  and 
I  rode  my  horse  up  to  the  fence  with  forceps  in  hand, 
which  he  did  not  expect  to  see.  "Second  upper  grinder, 
left  side." 

I  hastily  hooked  on,  at  the  same  moment  he  threw  up 
both  hands,  scared  my  horse,  then  pulled  back  vigorously. 
I  had* the  tooth,  galloped  away  saying,  "I  will  await  your 
good  time  to  settle." 

.  He  said,  "By  the  Eternal,  I  will  never  have  another 
tooth  pulled.  I  will  pay  a  dollar  and  have  a  fancy  job 
done."  He  said  the  job  was  done  quick  and  well,  but  he 
was  pulled  head  first  over  an  eight-rail  fence  and  he  thought 
his  neck  was  broken  for  at  least  a  minute  or  two.  I  was  told 
afterward  that  there  was  a  laughing  bee  for  an  hour  after  I 
left. 

Mr.  Story  was  all  right  on  my  return  an  hour  later  and 
blamed  himself  for  scaring  my  horse  and  paid  his  bill  with 
thanks.     I  became  his  family  doctor  for  twenty  years  after. 


104 


THE  BATTLE  OF  LIFE. 

THE    CHARRIOT,    CRAWFOKDSVILLE,    IND. 

Our  conceptions  of  human  life  varies  with  our  position  and 
experience.  Much  depends  upon  the  lens  through  which  we 
view  the  mighty  panorama  of  life,  as  it  glides  before  our 
vision.  To  one,  life  is  a  "Vale  of  Tears."  His  ear  is  turned 
only  to  the  undertones  of  sorrow  and  compl'aint,  his  whole 
system  is  saturated  with  his,  and  other  people's  woes.  He 
is  never  so  happy  as  when  very  miserable.  To  another,  life 
is  a  "Pilgrimage  to  a  better  country",  and  his  joyful  refrain 
is,  "I  would  not  live  alway",  and  his  great  hapipiness  is  the 
thought  that  each  day  brings  him  nearer  to  the  "better 
country".  Another  is  overwhelmed  with  the  brevity  of  life, 
and  sadness  of  the  thought  shuts  out  the  sunshine  of  the 
happy  present.  In  another,  "life  is  a  game"  and  only  the 
skillful  players  win,  to  such,  life  is  a  brief  gala  day  in  which 
to  "Eat,  drink  and  be  merry,  since  tomorrow  we  die." 

But  to  the  true  man  and  woman,  life  is  a  great  battle,  a 
mighty  struggle,  and  each  one  is  a  soldier.  Into  this  service 
we  did  not  voluntarily  enlist,  but  were  drafted  into  the  con- 
flict, and  cannot  escape  taking-  part  in  it.  We  cannot  choose 
our  place  in  the  ranks  but  must  fill  the  places  assigned  us, 
whether  we  will  or  not.  We  cannot  furnish  a  substitute ;  we 
■  may  desert,  or  stagger  to  the  rear,  during  lifes  conflicts,  or  go 
over  to  the  enemy  and  enlist  under  the  black  flag  of  wrong, 
but  the  fact  will  always  remain  that  we  are  drafted,  early 
in  life,  into  the  grand  battle  of  life  and  must  fight  for  right, 
for  honor,  for  God,  or  sink  beneath  the  onward  march  of  the 
forces  for  good,  and  be  trampled  under  their  feet. 

Wliile  it  is  true  that  we  have  all  been  drafted,  yet  it  is 
equally  true  that  in  our  hands  are  the  forces  that,  wisely 
directed,  will  bring  happiness  and  joy  amid  the  fiercest  battle 
of  life. '  If  our  vision  be  enlarged  until  we  can  see  clearly  our 
duty ;  if  our  hands  are  willing  to  aid,  and  our  feet  swift  to 
carry  help  and  comfort  to  the  suffering;  if  our  ears  are  at- 

105 


turned  to  the  cry  of  the  stricken  souls  and  our  souls  are  filled 
with  "the  love  that  passeth  understanding",  then  will  life 
become  to  us  a  great  battle  for  good,  for  right,  for  humanity, 
and  we  will  gladly,  willingly  and  courageously  be  found  in 
the  forefront  of  every  conflict,  helping,  cheering  and  leading 
on  to  victorv. 


AN  ACTlJAL  AND   RECENT   EXPERIENCE. 

BY  MAURICE  J.  LEWI,  M.  D.,  SECRETARY     STATE    BOARD    OF     MEDICAL 
EXAMINERS  OP  NEW  YORK. 

Mrs.  S.,  a  patient,  and  wife  of  a  physician,  being  dissat- 
isfied with  her  first  nurse,  is  provided  with  another,  who 
reached  the  sick  room  contemporaneously  with  a  message 
from  the  attending  physician.  The  patient  greets  the  nurse, 
bids  her  to  prepare  for  her  duties,  and  hurriedly  proceeds  to 
open  the  missive.  The  letter  is  a  note  assuring  the  patient 
that  an  examination  of  her  urine  shows  no  kidney  lesion; 
there  being  but  one  abnormal  product  in  excess,  towit : 
urates.  Turning  to  the  nurse  the  patient  says :  "Nurse, 
what  are  urates?"  Twenty  dollars  per  week  when  serving 
in  a  physician's  family;  but  to  others,  $25,"  came  the  prompt 
reply. 


A  PREACHER  TEMPTED  BY  A  STUBBORN  CALF. 

BY  C.  W.  S..  M.  D..  OP  VERMONT. 

Elder  Thom  of  Cloverdale,  was  at  one  time  a  bright, 
ambitious  clergyman  (now  invalided  and  banished  by  his 
physicians  to  the  country  for  his  health),  who  had  had  a 
stormy  youth,  but  had  later  learned  to  control  his  fiery  ebu- 
litions  of  spirit  largely  by  the  help  of  his  calling.  There 
were,  however,  notwithstanding  the  above-mentioned  help, 
"bilious  lapses"  when  the  herd  grass  and  daisies  waltzed 
together,  when   the  sun  stood  still,  when  his  pent-up  wrath 

106 


poured    forth    in    luxurious    and    satisfying-   outpour,    not    al- 
together orthodox. 

The  elder's  family  consisted  of  his  wife  and  two  grown- 
up children.  They  occupied  a  neat  white  cottage,  the  par- 
sonage, as  necessary  adjuncts  to  which  were  the  usual  out- 
buildings. 

In  order  to  get  the  full  benefit  of  country  life,  Elder  Thorn 
had  purchased  a  cow.  which  in  due  time  had  multiplied 
herself  so  that  now  the  worthy  man  had  upon  his  hands 
the  task  of  teaching  the  nursling  calf  how  to  procure  its 
food  in  a  manner  less  agreeable  to  it,  though  more  profit- 
able to  the  cow's  other  dependents.  In  this  task  the  elder 
had  met  with  exasperatingly  indifferent  results  thus  far,' 
but  had  kept  "sweet,"  much  to  his  credit.  ITpon  this  par- 
ticular Sunday  morning,  however,  the  "last  straw^'  was  to 
be  added,  the  "gates"  were  to  be  '^loosed,"  the  whirlwind 
of  his  indignation  was  to  sweep  in  mighty  waves  to  its 
record. 

The  bell  of  the  little  church  was  pealing  its  first  invita- 
tion, and  the  elder,  engaged  in  putting  the  finishing  touches 
on  his  immaculate  toilet,  had  adjusted  his  silk  hat  and  taken 
books  and  cane  in  hand,  preparatory  to  starting  out,  when 
suddenly,  the  voice  of  Mrs.  Thom,  with  its  henpecking, 
dismayful,  imperative  yet  gentle  tone,  fell  upon  his  startled 
senses :  "John,  you  have  not  yet  fed  the  calf."  What  should 
he  do?  Expostulations  would  be  in  vain.  A  despairing 
glance  at  the  clock,  another  at  his  clothes,  a  lightning 
calculation  as  to  available  time,  then  a  sudden  reckless  de- 
termination. With  exceedingly  careful  swiftness,  he  strode 
toward,  seized  and  carried  the  half-filled  milk  pail  to  the 
barn  and  bleating  calf.  Cautiously  approaching  the  animal 
and  placing  the  pail  before  her.  he  called  most  soothingly 
and  wheedlingly:  "Come.  Bossy,  Bossy.  Bossy.  Bossy;  so- 
o-o-ooo,   so-o-o-ooo ;  drink  your  m^ilk.  little   Bossy ,^  etc. 

But  Bossy  had  become  somewhat  awed  by  the  clerical 
appearance  of  the  elder — never  having  been  to  church — and 
so  she  backed  away  from  the  pail  and  elder,  uj-)  into  a 
corner. 

This  exasperating  evolution  brought  the  elder  up  to  the 
very    verge    of    anger.       Maneuvering    around    he    reached 

107 


the  side  of  the  calf,  and  tried  to  induce  it  to  drink  by  hold- 
ing the  pail  up  to  its  nose ;  but,  no,  drink  it  would  not.  Then 
placing  his  disengaged  hand  upon  Bossy's  head,  the  elder 
tried  to  gently  force  its  nose  into  the  milk — just  as  the  last 
bell  began  to  toll.  The  result  of  this  move  was  that  the 
calf,  with  a  lunge  and  a  flirt  of  its  head,  threw  a  whole 
shower  of  milk  all  over  the  now  infuriated  elder's  Sunday 
clothes. 

Throwing  all  prudence  to  the  winds,  he  vaulted 
across  the  animal's  neck,  grasped  both  its  ears,  and  shouted 
(while  vigorously  plunging  the  calf's  nose  down  into  the 
pail,  over  and  over  again)  :     'Tf  it  was  "not  for  the  glory  of 

God   and   this   holy   day.   I'd  jam    your  head   into 

the  bucket  so  that  it  would  never  come  out  asfain." 


THE    WORLD'S    DEBT   TO    SURGERY. 

BY   HENRY   W.    ROBY,    M.    I).,    TOPEKA,    KANSAS. 

The  debts  of  the  world  are  not  all  municipal,  state  and 
national.  And  they  do  not  all  represent  cash  advanced,  nor 
a  promise  to  pay  in  gold.  Some  debts  cannot  be  represented 
by  the  dollar  mark,  nor  by  pounds,  shilling  and  pence  marks. 
There  are  some  debts  of  the  world  that  cannot  be  settled  by 
kreutzers,  nor  rupees,  nor  pfennigs,  nor  yen,  nor  kopecks. 
And  the  world's  debt  to  surgery  is  such  a  debt.  Neither 
gold  nor  silver,  nor  houses,  nor  lands,  nor  titles,  nor  insignia 
of  rank  can  ever  requite  the  debt.  Tt  is  incurred  amid  ca- 
lamity and  blood,  but  even  calamity  and  blood  cannot  dis- 
charge it.  Only  the  deepest  and  tenderest  gratitude  of  the 
race  can  in  any  wise  balance  the  account  the  recording  angel 
is  keeping  in  the  matter.  And  what  kind  of  transactions  do 
these  great  items  of  debt  grow  out  of? 

If  you  will  climb  the  Pisgah  heights  of  history  and  take 
a  rapid  survey  of  the  world,  you  will  be  amazed  beyond 
expression  at  the  kinds,  amount  and  qualities  of  good  that 
surgery  has  done  for  mankind,  and  the  unending  sacrafices  it 

1 08 


has  made  for  the  race.  And  when  history  balks  and  refuses 
to  carry  you  back  to  the  beginning,  you  must  do  as  the  Mo- 
saic account  of  creation  does,  you  must  call  on  imagina- 
tion, and  take  wing  to  the  morning  of  the  race,  and  see  what 
reason  and  inductive  philosophy  can  teach  you  of  primitive 
and  pre-historic  conditions. 

I  have  endeavored,  as  far  as  possible,  to  beat  back  that 
great  ^  black  wall  of  shadow^s  that  lifts  and  looms  between 
us  and  the  primordial  days  of  the  world,  and  to  obtain  the 
very  earliest  scrap  of  surgical  history  to  be  had. 

The  Bible  is  generally  considered  to  be  a  very  respect- 
able old  book.  It  was  the  first  book  printed  from  movable 
types.  The  first  chapter  of  Genesis  purports  to  give  its 
earliest  events  4.004  years  before  Christ.  But  I  find  the  re- 
cord of  a  work  on  anatomy  written  by  Athothis,  the  son  of 
Menes,  who  reigned  in  Egypt  fifty-two  and  a  half  centuries 
before  Christ.  And  in  the  papyrus  Ebers.  written  fifteen  and 
one-half  centuries  before  Christ,  there  are  many  recipes  and 
prescriptions  that  are  said  by  the  author  of  that  work  to 
have  been  very  ancient  at  that  early  day,  so  that  I  must 
conclude  that  if  age  and  experience  confer  respectability, 
surgery  is  very  respectable.  The  surgeon  seems  to  have 
been  out  making  an  early  call  at  the  daybreak  of  the  cen- 
turies. 

The  Mosaic  account  of  the  morning  of  life  tells  us  that 
in  Adam's  time  surgery  had  already  reached  a  very  high  de- 
gree of  development.  You  all  recall  that  glowing  account 
of  resection  and  thoracoplasty,  and  how  perfectly  the  an- 
aesthesia worked.  Starting  there,  let  your  minds  take  in  the 
march  of  events,  while  the  world  passes  in  grand  review 
before  you. 

The  column  has  not  gone  beyond  the  gates  of  begin- 
ning until  some  adventurous  fellow  falls  from  the  tree  he 
had  climbed  to  see  the  parade,  and  breaks  the  first  bone  of 
the  race.  But  primitive  surgery  has  already  lapsed,  and 
there  is  no  member  of  the  profession  to  attend  him.  He 
roars  with  his  pains,  and  his  fellows  stand  aghast  at  the 
sight  of  the  crooked  and  helpless  limb.  He  is  dragged  to 
the  shade  of  an  olive  tree  and  left  with  his  weeping  mother. 

109 


In  time  the  pain  subsides,  but  the  lameness  compels  him  to 
be  quiet,  and  in  a  month  he  begins  to  use  the  crippled  mem- 
ber, and  later  he  goes  on  his  way  rejoicing,  and  the  world 
incurs  no  debt  to  surgery,  but  it  learns  something.  It  learns 
that  a  bone  may  be  broken,  and  that  it  may  be  restored  to 
continuity  and  strength.  And  when  it  is  seen  that  the  limb 
is  crooked  and  shorter  than  its  fellow,  reflection  informs 
the  wise  among  them  that  if  that  limb  had  been  kept  more 
quiet  and  in  a  straight  position  it  would  have  been  a  better 
member.  And  when  the  next  fellow  is  found  with  a  broken 
limb  he  is  kept  quiet  and  the  limb  adjusted  and  kept  more 
nearly  in  line,  and  a  better  result  is  obtained.  x*\nd  the  two 
are  set  side  by  side  and  comparisons  made.  And  from  that 
day  rest  and  position  are  ordered  for  broken  bones,  and  we 
continue  that  prescription  to-day.  And  some  brave,  sym- 
pathetic fellow  who  assisted  in  watching  both  cases,  con- 
cludes that  better  results  can  be  had  in  the  next  case,  so  he 
offers  his  services  and  suggestions  for  the  behoof  of  the  next 
victim.  But  in  that  case  the  bones  overlap  and  a  bad  case 
of  deformity  follows.  He  reasons  that  it  is  some  sort  of  con- 
traction, and  in  the  next  case  he  ties  the  foot  to  a  tree  and 
the  body  to  a  stake,  and  extension  is  inaugurated  with  bet- 
ter results,  and  we  continue  to  apply  extension  to-day. 

We  look  back  and  see  the  neighbors  gather  around  that 
man  and  hear  them  say:  "You  are  a  wise  man,  and  you 
shall  have  an  extra  tree  of  oilves  set  apart  for  your  special 
use."  And  thus  the  first  debt  of  surgery  is  paid  in  kind,  while 
the  debt  of  gratitude  which  began  there  has  gone  on  aug- 
menting and  piling  up  until  now  it  fills  the  whole  vast  dome 
of  the  sky,  and  the  theologians  tell  us  they  are  making  room 
in    Heaven    for  the   surplus. 

L^ndoubtedly  bone  surgery  was  the  first  of  all  surgery 
aiuong  men.  And  it  was  not  so  very  long  before  bright,  in- 
quisitive men  began  to  discuss  the  matter  among  themselves 
and  their  neighbors.  And  one  morning  as  a  lot  of  them  sat 
under  a  great  date  palm  in  the  Lybian  desert,  and  the  dis- 
cussion became  unusually  heated,  an  old  fellow  wound  up  by 
saying,  "You  men  may  talk  all  you  please,  but  I'm  going 
to  know.  I'm  going  to  cut  a  dead  man  up  and  find  out  all 
about  h"s  bones." 


"Not  on  your  life  !"  said  the  old  priest  from  the  temple 
of  Osiris,  who  had  been  listening;  "the  human  body  is  sacred 
and  the  Osiris  will  strike  you  dead  if  you  attempt  it.  The 
soul  must  reinhabit  the  body,  and  that  is  why  every  Egyptian 
is  emablmed  to  keep  his  body  till  the  soul  calls  for  it.  No, 
you  cannot  cut  any  dead  bodies  to  find  out  about  a  few 
bones." 

And  thus  arose  the  first  conflict  between  knowledge  and 
superstition,  between  science  and  religion,  and  the  clash 
of  that  old  contest  is  still  resounding  through  the  passing- 
century.  x\nd  while  superstition  still  lingers  and  carries  on 
a  guerilla  warfare  in  many  of  the  old  temples  and  kingdoms, 
surgery  has  won  its  battle  and  given  the  world  the  science 
of  anatomy  founded  on  dissection  so  long  and  fiercely  for- 
bidden. 

We  talked  learnedly  about  the  seventeen  years'  war,  and 
the  thirty  years'  war,  as  if  they  were  very  long  struggles  be- 
tween right  and  wrong.  But  here  is  a  battle  that  lasted  for 
centuries,  and  its  partisians  are  not  all  dead  yet. 

How  much  do  you  say  the  world  owes  to  surgery  for 
pressing  that  battle  all  along  the  line  for  over  a  thousand 
years,  that  the  very  men  who  opposed  anatomical  knowl- 
edge and  their  descendants  might  have  the  benefit  of  it? 

Therein  lies  one  item  of  the  great  debt  the  world  owes 
to  surgerv.  The  gates  of  superstition,  behind  which  stood 
all  pagan  and  Christian  religion,  had  to  be  beaten  down  be- 
fore science  could  engrave  and  ])rint  the  truth,  and  surgery 
had  to  fight  for  centuries  before  it  had  a  single  statute  be- 
hind it  to  back  it  up.  though  it  was  tolerated  in  many  parts 
of  the  world  and  bitterly  assailed  almost  everywhere. 

In  1540  the  English  Parliament  enacted  the  first  statute 
legalizing  dissections.  That  act  provided  that  four  crim- 
als  a  year  should  be  given  to  the  United  Companies  of  Bar- 
bers and  Surgeons  for  dissection.  And  some  time  after  that, 
legislative  zeal  reached  the  point  of  providing  that,  certain 
other  criminals  might  be  handed  over  for  dissection,  on  con- 
dition that  one  or  more  of  them  should  be  publicly  dissected 
each  year. 


Surgery  fought  and  won  another  great  battle  in  those 
ancient  times.  The  first  considerable  number  of  men  in  the 
world  to  give  any  attention  to  the  injured  were  the  priests 
— priests  of  Juno,  Minerva,  Jupiter,  Saturn,  priests  of  Thor 
and  Woden,  and  later  the  priests  of  Rome  and  Judea.  In 
this  practice  they  held  a  large  monopoly  until  the  Romish 
Council  of  Tours,  in  1163,  finally  forbade  the  practice  of  sur- 
gery by  all  its  clergy.  Down  to  that  time  there  had  been  a 
great  and  continuous  contest  for  the  mastery  in  the  field  of 
surgery  between  the  lay-surgeons  and  the  clerical  surgeons. 
But  in  that  edict  clerical  surgery  received  its  death  warrant 
and  quit 

In  the  meantime  lay-surgery  fought  and  won  another 
long  battle  with  the  barber-surgeons.  As  soon  as  men  be- 
gan to  cut  hair  and  trim  or  shave  the  beard  (from  motives 
not  pertinent  to  be  discussed  here),  the  barbers'  guild  came 
into  existence.  And  they  soon  began  to  dress  wounds  and 
to  bleed  people,  for  phlebotomy  got  an  early  start  in  the 
world,  and  its  sign  and  symbol  still  cling  to  the  barber  pole 
today.  And  from  wound  dressing  and  bleeding  they  soon 
pitched  their  tents  over  the  whole  field  of  surgery  claiming 
the  right  of  eminent  domain  by  reason  of  royal  decrees  and 
favors.  And  in  that  first  act  of  Parliament  legalizing  dis- 
section it  was  decreed  that  half  the  criminals  to  be  dissected 
should  go  to  the  barber  surgeons.  And  when  an  epidemic 
of  the  plague  broke  out  in  France  in  1383.  Charles  V.  or- 
dered a  detail  of  four  physicians,  two  surgeons  and  six  bar- 
bers to  visit  the  sick  and  treat  them  at  public  expense. 

Imagine  a  man  at  the  end  of  the  nineteenth  century  go- 
ing to  a  barber  shop  for  a  hair  cut,  a  shampoo,  a  shave  and 
a  laparotomy  or  a  cranial  section,  at  the  hands  of  the  same 
artist.  That  was  the  custom  among  men  only  six  hundred 
years  ago.  And  the  wiping  out  of  that  old  incongruity  is 
one  of  the  items  we  must  list  in  the  world's  debt  to  surgery. 
That  was  in  the  midst  of  the  so-called  "Dark  Ages,"  when 

"One  vast  eclipse  the  human  mind  o'erspread. 
And  learning  slumbered  with  the  mighty  dead." 

x\nd  now  standing  at  the  end  of  the  nineteenth  century 
we  can,  by  the  aid  of  historical  lights,  trace,  the  pathway  of 


surgery  in  the  world  for  over  seventy  centuries,  and  see  it 
always  assaulting  the  camps  and  columns  of  wrong  and  ig- 
norance and  superstition.  No  mightier  or  more  prolonged 
contest  was  ever  waged  on  the  planet  than  the  battle  of  sur- 
gery. Long  years  with  priest-craft,  long  years  with  witch- 
craft, long  years  with  barber-surgeon-craft,  long  centuries 
with  innate  fear  and  unparalleled  horror  of  its  inevitable 
pains  and  punishments,  and  through  all  ages,  battling  with 
ignorance  and  all  kinds  of  quackery  and  charlatanry.  And 
every  time  a  new  light  is  set  in  any  window  of  the  great 
temple  of  science,  surgery  is  seen  catching  its  first  gleams 
and  appropriating  to  the  service  of  mankind  every  benefac- 
tion, either  direct  or  collateral,  that  may  be  revealed  bv  that 
light. 

Take  a  peep  over  the  shoulder  of  the.  recording  angel 
who  has  charge  of  the  surgical  record,  and  you  shall  read 
amid  a  rapid  turning  of  the  leaves  headings  and  sub-head- 
ings that  rea'd  in  this  wise : 

"Broken  bones ;  coaptation,  rest,  splints,  extension,  re- 
section for  non-union,  asepsis,  X-ray." 

"Wounds  inflicted  by  animals,  enemies  and  accidents; 
styptics,  soothing  lotions,  cleansing  irrigations,  approxima- 
tion of  rent  edges;  healing  without  pus  sometimes;  healing 
without  pus  a  majority  of  times,  and  finally  substantially,  all 
times." 

"False  growths  gradually  individualized  and  classified. 
Removed  with  ever  increasing  success  and  safety,  cancer 
and  leprosy  only  left  to  greatly  baffle  us." 

"^Abdominal  section,  from  the  days  of  Praxagoras  down, 
gastrectomy,  splenectomy,  nephrectomy,  alimentary  anas- 
tomoses, hysterectomy,  ovariotomy,"  with  details  all  follow- 
ing in  orderly  succession. 

"Cranio-section  ;  trephining,  removing  tumors,  clots  and 
foreign  bodies." 

"Many  operations  on  tlie  eye.  brought  down  from  em- 
pirical experimentation  to  scientific  accuracy  and  certainty." 

"Thoraco-section ;  ribs  resected,  pus  cavities  evacuated ; 
necrotic  lungs  excised   and  diseased   ones  cleansed." 

"3 


"Unscheduled  progress  in  orthopedics ;  talipes  correct- 
ed ;  crooked  spines  straightened :  anchyloses  overcome  ;  bow- 
legs  straightened,    and    splay-feet    set   on    elastic   arches." 

"Obstetric  operations  manifold  and  masterly;  men  born 
as  Caesar  was,  and  mothers  saved,  as  Anrelia,  the  beautiful 
Roman,  was.'^ 

In  that  fierce  passage-at-arms  between  Macbeth  and 
Macduff.  Shakespeare  disj^lays  his  knowledge  of  the  sur- 
geon's art  in  this  wise : 

"Macbeth — 'Let  fall  thy  blade  on  vulnerable  crests; 

I  bear  a  charmed  life,  which  must  not  yield. 
To  one  of  woman  born.'  " 

"^Macduff —  'Despair  thy  charm  ; 

And  let  the  angel  whom  thou  still  hast  served 
Tell  thee.  Macduff  was  from  his  mother's  womb 
untimely   ripp'd.'  " 

And  even  the  great  Shakespeare  had  no  conception  of 
fast  approaching  surgical  trium])hs  when  he  ])ut  these  sug- 
gestive words  in  the  mouth  of  lago : 

"Not  poppy,  nor  mandragora,  nor  all  the  drowsy,  syrups 
of  the  world,  shall  ever  medicine  thee  to  that  sweet  sleep 
which   thou   owaiedst   yesterday." 

Those  "drowsy  syrups  of  the  world"  were  but  the  har- 
bingers  of  the  world's  greatest  boon,   after  life  itself. 


ANAESTHESIA. 

What  a  day  of  rejoicing  this  world  would  have  known. 
If  all  men  from  the  clown  to  the  king  on  his  throne 

Could  have  sat  in  that  dingy,  old  hospital  room. 

'Mid  the  silence  and  horror,  and  danger  and  gloom. 
And  have  seen  that  first  case  of  sweet  dreaming  and  sleep, 
While   the    glittering  knife   was    thrust   slant-wise    and    deep 

114 


Into  slumbering  tissues,   and  time  and   again, 
'llirust  in  without  waking  the  Demon  of  Pain; 
While  up  to  that  day.  through  the  pain-burdened  years, 
Xo  man  had  been  found  who  could  master  his  fears, 
And   hand  himself  over,  his  body  and  life. 
To  the  dangers  and  agonies  born  of  the  knife. 
Up  to  that  gravid  morn,  had  the  world  stood  aghast 
At  the  horrors  that  haunted  all  men  to  the  last. 

As  they  saw  the  Pain-Demon,  with  death  in   his  touch, 
Hold  strong  men  and  feeble  alike  in  his  clutch  ; 
And  rack   them   and   rent  them,   unheeding  their  cry 
Echoed  back  as  in  scorn  from  the  pitiless  sky. 

But  on   that  mighty  day,   from   the  throne  of  the  world 
The  king  of  affliction  was  hurried  and  hurled. 
Making  way  ior  another  with  kindlier  face 
And  deeper  concern  for  the  good  of  the  race. 

"King  Somnus,"  men   cry.  and  their  laudations  ring, 
"Dethroned  is  the  Demon:  exalted  the  King!'' 
He  comes  to  the  child  that  in  agony  screams. 
And   tickles   its   fancy  w^ith   beautiful   dreams : 

And    soothes   the   care-laden   and    agonized   man. 
Abating  the  dangers  and  risks  that  he  ran  ; 
And  stands  by  sweet  womanhood,  ready  to  vouch 
For  less  thorny  pilloAvs  on  motherhood's  couch ; 

And  he  gives  of  his  bounty  a  blessing,  hand-free. 
To  all  of  pain's  victims  by  land  and  by  sea, 
And  calls  to  all  men,  on  the  height,  on  the  deep. 
^'Forget  now  thy  anguish  and   sleep  .sweetly  sleep  !" 

Did  you  ever  stop  to  think  how  much  greater  and  more 
beneficent  is  the  gift  of  anaesthesia  than  the  gift  of  gun- 
powder to  the  world?  With  the  aid  of  anaesthesia  and  an- 
tisepsis, the  nineteenth  century  has  made  more  real  progress 
in  surgery  than  all  the  centuries  that  have  gone  before.  And 
for  these  two  incomparable  benefactions  alone  the  world's 
debt  to  surgerv  is  inestimable. 


115 


IN  WAR. 

Now  take  your  field-glass  and  survey  the  sanguinary 
plains  of  the  planet  and  tell  me,  if  you  can,  of  some  land 
where  the  red  tide  of  battle  has  not  poured  through  its  hill- 
gaps.  You  will  not  live  long  enough  to  count  all  the  world's 
battlefields,  but  scan  them  as  you  may,  and  you  will  stand 
aghast  at  the  record  of  their  needs  for  the  undertaker  and 
the  surgeon.  Turn  your  gaze  to  the  plains  of  Eastern  Asia. 
There  at  the  head  of  more  than  a  million  men  rides  the  great 
Zinghis,  who  boasts  just  before  his  death,  that  he  has  slain 
more  than  five  million  of  his  foes  and  overrun  a  fourth  of  the 
planet.  Turn  to  the  Empire  of  the  Califs  and  see  that  great 
pyramid,  not  the  one  built  by  Cheops  on  the  Nile,  but  the 
one  built  by  Tamerlane,  the  Tartar,  on  the  ruins  of  Bagdad^ 
out  of  ninety  thousand  skulls  of  her  citizens  whom  he  has  . 
slain  in  battle. 

Now  turn  your  gaze  poleward.  Yonder  rides  Napoleon 
towards  Moscow  at  the  head  of  six  hundred  and  seventy- 
eight  thousand  men,  the  combined  armies  of  twenty  nations  ; 
and  coming  out  to  meet  him  rides  the  Czar  of  all  the  Rus- 
sians, while  the  plains  and  hills  behind  him  are  black  with 
his  swarming  followers.  But  Napoleon  rides  on  into  Mos- 
cow, after  stretching  sevent}^  thousand  men  in  death  on  the 
great  plain.  As  your  gaze  swings  back  let  it  rest  on  Water- 
loo, where, 

"Last  noon  beheld  them  full  of  lusty  life. 

Last   eve  in  beauty's   circle  proudly  gay. 
The  midnight  brought  the  signal  sound  of  strife. 

The  morn  the  marshalling  in  arms — the  day 
Battles  magnificently — stern  away 

The    thunder-clouds    closed    o'er    it,    which,    when    rent 
The  earth  is  covered  thick  with  other  clay. 

Which   her  own  clay  shall   cover,  heaped  and  pent. 

Rider  and  horse,  friend  and  foe,  in  one  red  burial  blent !'' 

ii6 


The  trumpet  sounds,  and  Wellinjii^ton.  the  victor,  is 
marching-  back  to  camp,  and  Napoleon,  the  vanquished,  has 
fought  his  last  battle  and  is  fleeing  to  Paris.  But  what  is 
that  new  scene  that  is  being  enacted  on  that  most  san- 
guinary  field? 

Let  Sir  Charles  Bell,  the  great  English  surgeon,  an- 
swer: "This  is  the  second  Sunday  after  the  battle  and  many 
are  not  yet  dressed.  It  is  impossible  to  convey  to  you  the 
picture  of  human  misery  continuously  before  my  eyes.  At 
8  o'clock  a.  m.,  I  took  the  knife  in  my  hand^  and  continued 
incessantly  at  work  until  seven  in  the  evening,  .and  so  the 
second  day  and  again  on  the  third  and  each  succeeding  day. 
All  the  decencies  of  performing  surgical  operations  were  soon 
neglected.  While  I  amputated  one  man's  thigh,  there  lay 
at  one  time  thirteen,  all  beseeching  to  be  taken  next — one 
full  of  entreaty,  one  calling  on  me  to  remember  my  promise 
to  take  him,  another  execrating.  It  was  a  strange  thing  to 
feel  my  clothes  stiff  with  blood,  and  my  arms  powerless  with 
the  long  exertion  of  using  the  knife." 

Now  turn  your  gaze  again  to  the  East.  Who  is  that  rid- 
ing up  to  Jerusalem?  Titus,  the  Roman.-  How  many  dead 
does  he  leave  in  the  red  streets  of  Jerusalem  on  the  morrow? 
One  million,  one  hundred  thousand.  How  many  prisoners? 
Only  seventy-nine  thousand.  How  many  wounded?  God 
only  knows.  Any  surgeons  with  these  great  armies?  Aye. 
always.  Surgeons  on  both  sides.  Surgeons  saving  more 
lives  than  the  leaders  and  armies  are  destroying.  The  world's 
average  is  four  wounded  to  one  killed  in  battle.  Sum  up  the 
dead,  multiply  them  by  four,  and  see  how  many  wounded 
men  fall  to  the  care  of  the  surgeons,  then  see  what  a  debt 
the  world  owes  him  on  that  score. 

Now  turn  your  glass  to  the  sea.  Surely,  on  that  broad 
expanse  of  blue  there  is  no  stain  of  blood !  Nay,  but  there 
is.  Yonder,  at  Navarino,  ride  at  anchor  one  hundred  and 
twenty  men  of  war.  In  four  hours  one-half  of  them  have 
gone  down — sailors,  soldiers,  surgeons  and  all — and  the  other 
half  are  crippled  almost  to  helplessness. 

At  Trafalgar  the  morning  sun  looks  down  on  twenty- 
seven  ships  of  the  line  and  four  frigates,  with  Nelson  on  the 

117 


flagship,  and  over  his  head  his  pennant  streaming-  out,  with 
the  motto,  "England  expects  every  man  to  do  his  duty!" 
while  over  against  him  the  same  sun  lights  up  thirty-three 
French  and  Spanish  ships  of  the  line  and  seven  frigates,  with 
Villeneuve  in  the  flagship ;  and  when  the  sun  goes  down 
Nelson  is  dead,  France  is  blotted  out  as  a  naval  power,  Eng- 
land is  made  mistress  of  the  sea,  and  Trafalgar  added  to  the 
list  of  world  battles,  and  no  man  knows  how  many  were  lost 
and   wounded. 

"Peace  is  the  dream  of  philosophers,  but  war  is  the  his- 
tory of  men."  The  history  of  the-  world  is  the  history  of 
blood.  And  wrapped  up  in  that  history  of  blood  is  much  of 
the  history  of  surgery,  which  itself  is  a  history  of  blood. 
But  the  blood  it  sheds  is  always  beneficent  blood,  shed  with 
a  view  of  saving  life  and  limbs,  and  not  intended  to  sacri- 
fice life,  as  is  battle-sKed  blood. 


IN  CIVIL  LIFE. 

Rut,  outside  of  armies  and  navies,  surgery  has  a  vast, 
glorious  field  for  its  benefactions  to  the  race.  The  mer- 
chant fleets  of  all  the  seas  have  a  large  contingent  of  sur- 
geons in  service  ;  and  marine  hospitals  are  to  be  seen  on  al- 
most  every  coast,  with   their  surgical   stafifs. 

Then,  again,  in  the  transportation  world,  there  is  a  mar- 
velous network  of  railroads  laid  down  like  the  threads  of  a 
gigantic  spider-web  all  over  the  dry  land  of  the  planet.  And 
most  of  the  great  systems  of  railways  have  their  official  hos- 
pitals and  surgeons,  doing  a  vast  work  for  humanity.  We 
may  gain  some  idea  of  the  annual  railway  emergencies  that 
call  for  surgical  aid  by  referring-  to  the  last  annual  report  of 
the  Interstate  Commerce  Commission,  which  informs  us  that 
last  year  out  of  a  total  of  227,537  railroad  employees  in  the 
United  States,  7.123  were  killed  and  44,620  wounded.     Every 

118 


thirty-second   man    killed,   and   nearly   every   fourth    man    in- 
jured and  needing-  the  care  of  a  surgeon. 

Then,  if  we  take  into  account  all  the  lesser  industries 
and  activities  of  life,  such  as  the  construction  of  great  canals 
and  great  buildings,  mining  and  smelting,  iron  and  steel 
mills,  the  great  foundries  and  machine  shops ;  a  vast  array  of 
factories  making  all  kinds  of  textile  fabrics;  the  harvest  fields 
of  the  world,  and  their  incident  and  consecutive  activities; 
the  vast  fishing  and  hunting  industries,  with  lumbering  and 
milling;  vast  local  plants  for  steam  and  electric  power  and 
intramural  conveyance ;  and  a  thousand,  nay  ten  thousand, 
other  industries,  all  yielding  their  quota  of  accidents  and  in- 
juries and  demanding  the  skill  and  care  of  the  surgeon,  we 
shall  broaden   our  view  of  the  world's  debt  to  surgery. 

Then,  when  we  survey  the  grand  panorama  of  life  in  our 
great  and  crowded  cities,  with  their  swarming  populations 
and  their  due  cpiota  of  accidents,  we  find  another  great  de- 
mand for  surgery. 

Then  take  into  account  the  world's  criminal  records,  and 
see  what  a  multitude  of  people  are  crippled  by  criminal  as- 
saults, over  and  above  the  actual  murders,  and  all  calling  for 
surgeons. 

Go  to  the  jungles  of  India  alone  and  you  shall  find  twen- 
t}'-  thousand  people  annually  dying  from  the  bites  of  ven- 
omous serpents,  with  more  than  an  equal  number  saved  by 
the  surgeons.  Then  add  the  long  list  of  men  torn  and  trampled 
by  wild  and  tame  beasts  of  the  world,  and  see  how  you  swell 
the  benefactions  of  surgery. 

Then  take  up  the  list  of  pathological  disorders,  the  neo- 
plasms and  necrotic  conditions  calling  for  surgery,  and  you 
can  assemble  a  great  army  corps  out  of  the  men  operating 
in  that  one  field.  And  what  a  glorious  record  they  are  mak- 
ing! From  the  original  record  of  forty  to  fifty  per  cent,  of 
recoveries  in  many  lines  of  operative  work,  the  record  goes 
on  from  year  to  year,  creeping  up  to  seventy-five,  eighty, 
ninety,  ninety-five,  ninety-seven,  and  at  last  reaching  ninety- 
eight  and  ninety-nine  per  cent,  of  recoveries. 

Aye,  it  is  a  glorious  record,  of  a  glorious  profession, 
with    a    debt    of    honor    and    gratitude    honestly    and    fairly 

119 


charged  up  to  the  world  that  would  stagger  humanity,  could 
it  all  be  clearly  understood  and  fully  comprehended  by  every 
member  of  the  race. 

It  is  a  very  singular  fact  that  a  very  large  majority  of 
all  human  injuries  are  humanly  inflicted,  directly  or  indirect- 
ly. Every  gunshot  wound,  every  arrow,  spear,  or  sabre 
wound ;  every  club,  stone,  knife,  hammer,  axe  and  saw  wound 
is  of  human  infliction.  All  the  wounds  from  the  explosion 
of  mines  and  torpedoes  under  the  feet  of  men  are  by  man- 
made  contrivances.  All  explosions  of  steam  and  gas  are  the 
result  of  human  ignorance  or  carelessness.  All  the  railway 
and  steamboat  wrecks  are  brought  about  by  the  vicious  use 
of  knowledge  or  ignorance.  And  the  vast  hecatombs  of  men 
slain  and  wounded  in  battles  and  brawls  are  so  slain  and 
mangled  by  the  design  and  fell  precipitation  of  their  fellow 
mortals.  So  that  the  world  itself  is  responsible  for  most  of 
the  crying  needs  that  call  for  the  aid  of  surgery. 

Men.  singly,  in  groups,  in  bodies,  in  nations,  are  inces- 
santly inflicting  bodily  injuries  on  their  fellow  m'ortals,  and 
then  expecting  the  surgeon  to  save  the  remnant  and  heal 
their  infirmities.  And  thus  they  are  forever  piling  up  the 
vast  debt  of  gratitude,  which  the  world  owes  to  surgery. 

,  The  injuries  and  violent  deaths  that  are  in  no  wise  con- 
nected with  human  design  or  negligence  constitute  but  a 
small  proportion  of  our  casualty  lists. 

Great  bodies  of  men  are  sometimes  responsible  for  great 
calamities  and  appalling  catastrophes.  Take,  for  example, 
the  recent  great  calamity  at  Galveston.  I  suppose  some  of 
you  are  ready  to  say  on  the  instant  and  emphatically  that 
that  was  the  act  of  God  entirely.  Not  so;  human  negligence 
contributed  a  large  share  of  the  responsibility  for  that  catas- 
trophe. Since  Galveston  was  founded  it  has  had  several 
loud  and  alarming  warnings  that,  in  obedience  to  the  meteor- 
ologic  laws  of  the  universe,  great  storms  are  booked  to 
sweep  over  that  especial  region  of  coast  line  from  time  to 
time,  to  the  imminent  peril  of  human  life.  Fourteen  years 
ago  thirty-eight  lives  and  five  millions  of  property  were 
swept  out  by  a  similar  storm,  but  of  less  intensity;  and  yet 
people  rebuilt  then  and  will  rebuild  now,  right  in  the  hurri- 


cane's  track,  because  they  can  make  money  there,  notwith- 
standing that  within  the  month  five  thousand  people  have 
been  handed  over  to  death,  and  other  thousands  to  the  sur- 
geons, because  they  both  wilfully  and  ignorantly  camped  in 
the  hurricane's  track. 

God  has  little  responsibility  in  the  matter.  What  is  the 
debt  of  humanity  to  the  surgeons  who  take  care  of  such  a 
people? 


SURGICAL   LITERATURE. 

Fiction  is  without  question  the  most  colossal  department 
of  the  world's  literature,  overshadowing  all  other  depart- 
ments as  Himalayan  peaks  tower  above  all  other  peaks  in 
all  other  ranges. 

It  is  probable  that  history  ranks  next  to  fiction  in  volume 
and  numerical  strength.  The  largest  average  of  large  work- 
ing libraries  in  private  life  is  the  law  library.  It  takes  more 
law  books  to  make  what  is  considered  a  respectable  library 
than  any  other  class  of  books.  But  the  library  that  gets  ripe 
and  goes  to  seed  the  quickest  and  is  soonest  out  of  date,  of 
all  libraries,  is  the  medical  library.  A  medical  work  often 
becomes  antique  before  the  current  year-book  is  bound ;  and 
all  because  medicine  and  surgery  are  displaying  greater  ac- 
tivity and  research  and  theoretical  and  practical  experiment- 
ation than-  any  other  branch  of  human  endeavor. 

What  with  books,  monographs,  pamphlets,  reports  and 
current  and  serial  publications,  there  is  a  broad  and  deep 
stream  of  medical  literature  pouring  constantly  into  the 
libraries  and  offices  of  its  devotees.  And  no  inconsiderable 
part  of  that  is  strictly  surgical  literature. 

As  the  first  printed  edition  of  the  Bible  went  off  the  forms 
of  Gutenburg,  the  inventor  of  printing,  the  "De  re  Medica" 
of  Celsus  went  on,  and  over  sixty  thousand  editions  and 
translations  of  that  one  work  have  seen  the  light  of  day. 


In  a  two  day's  tramp  through  the  surgical  history  of  the 
world,  I  found  seventeen  hundred  and  seventy  original  works 
on  surgery,  with  about  five  thousand  translations,  and  twice 
as  many  monographs,  not  large  enough  to  be  called  books. 
Of  surgical  pamphlets  and  case  reports  I  can  fomi  no  es- 
timate of  the  number,  any  more  than  I  can  of  the  number  of 
leaves  in  an  acre  of  forest.  Of  surgical  articles  in  the  medi- 
cal and  surgical  journals,  sliall  I  say  they  number  one 
hundred  thousand,  or  a  million,  or  one  hvmdred  million, 
from  the  days  of  xA-Csculapius  to  the  morning  of  the  twentieth 
century? 

And  what  is  the  world's  del)t  to  the  profession  on  that 
score?     I  leave  that  for  you  and  the  world  to  judge. 

You  will  observe  that  I  have  said  almost  nothing  of  the 
magnificent  record  of  the  nineteenth  century.  It  has  been 
discussed  by  an  abler  man,  and  I  beg  leave  to  refer  you  to 
the  Annual  Address  in  Surgery,  before  the  British  Medical 
Association  at  its  session  at  Ipswick.  by  Mr.  Frederick 
Treves. 


The  foregoing  article  is  a  valuable  variation  from  the  gen- 
eral contour  of  this  book,  but  is  a  welcome  contribution 
nevertheless,  contributed  by  its  author,  who  deserves  great 
credit  for  its  excellence.  L.  L.  S. 


A   MODERN   INSTANCE. 

BY    HENRY    W.    ROBKY.    M.    D. 

Dr.   Pildash  sat  in  his  office 
Wondering  who  would  be  next  to  call 
Wondering  what  he  would  do,  if  mayhap 
Nobody   wanted  his  help  at  all. 


How  would  he   feed   his   wife   and   children, 
How  would  he  pay  for  his  clothes  and  rent. 
How  would  he  meet  his  note  to-morrow 
Held  by  the  bank  at  ten  per  cent? 
Night  and  morning  in  old  Rush   College 
He  had  studied  the  skin  and  bones — 
The  cloak  that  covered,  the  frame  that  carried 
Bad-pay  Smith  and  old  dead-beat  Jones. 
There  while  the  midnight  oil  was  burning 
He  had  studied  the  heart  and  spleen 
Found  in  the  frame  of  good-pay  Johnson. 
The  reins  and  liver  of  sure-pay  Green 
An  hundred  times  had  asked  the  question, 
Why  had  he  not  in  those  student  days 
Found  the  law  in  some  spleen  or  liver 
For  diagnosing  the  man  who  pays  ? 
Why  had  he  not  in  the  flush  or  pallor 
Of  every  man  whom  he  chanced  to  meet 
Found  some  clue  for  the  proclamation 
"This  old  chump  is  a  fraud  and  cheat !" 
Why  had  he  not  found  some  new  center 
Sconced  in  the  cord,  or  the  brain  above. 
That  he  might  touch  with  a  probe  or  potion 
And  turn  all  malice  and  hate  to  love? 
Why  had  he  not  in  the  convolutions 
Found  the  cell  where  the  soul  resides? 
Why  had  he  not  in  the  brain's  white  cortex 
Found  where  the  moral  sense  abides? 
Why  in  the  world  had  he  not  discovered 
In  the  soul's  great  temple  or  some  annex 
Like  the  Taj  Mahal  or  the  Mosque  of  Omar 
That  wonderous  statute  the  law  of  sex? 
Why  had  he  not  in  the  great  sympathetic 
Found  affection's  root  and  course 
Or  found  the  bulb  of  the  great  erratic 
That  drives  so  many  to  quick  divorce? 
Why  he  had  not  some  night  or  morning 

123 


Stumbled  over  that  special  cell 

That  gives  to  men  like  Patrick  Henry 

The  charm  of  speech,  with  its  power  and  spell? 

Why  had  he  not  some  time  at  midnight 

Just  when  the  hours  seemed  dull  and  long 

Found  that  cell  in  the  teeming  brain-pan 

Fraught  with  the  magic  power  of  song? 

Why  had  he  not — but  his  bell  was  ringing, 

Here  indeed  was  the  wished  for  call, 

A  little  late,  but  still  much  better 

Than  if  it  had  never  come  at  all. 

Deacon  Smith  from  his  horse  had  fallen, 

Striking  the  curb-stone  on  his  head, 

And  they  who  brought  him  home  predicted 

The  rich  old  banker  would  soon  be  dead. 

That  was  the  message  brought  to  Pildash, 

That  was  the  cause  of  his  rush  and  haste, 

That  was  the  reason  his  dinner  waited. 

The  cook  was  angry,  her  art  disgraced. 

Pildash  found  when  he  reached  the  patient 

A  rich  old  rival  was  there  ahead, 

For  Doctor  Pilgrave,  a  nearby  neighbor. 

Was  bending  over  the  patient's  bed. 

The  rivals  glared,  for  a  moment,  silent, 

Then  shook  hands  and  the  war  was  done. 

This  was  a  patient  both  had  wanted. 

(The  patient  had  wanted  neither  one.) 

Both  were  called  by  the  frightened  neighbors 

W^ithout  inquiring  the  victim's  will. 

"Run  for  a  doctor!"  most  men  clamour 

WHien  Jones  is  injured  or   IJrown  is  ill. 

Deacon  Smith,  Avith  his  ample  fortune, 

Offered  truce  to  the  ]Mll-men's  feud, 

They  could   meet  at  the  Deacon's  bedside 

And  both  remain  without  being  rude. 

Here  was  a  place  where  the  code  of  ethics 

Raised  no  ((uarrel  and  bred  no  strife. 

124 


They  agreed  on  the  diagnosis, 

Or  so  professed,  to  the  good  man's  wife. 

Pilgrave  said  to  his  youthful  rival, 

"In  my  opinion  it  would  be  well 

To  give  the  patient  a  little  jalap 

And  broken  doses  of  calomel." 

"Yes,"  said  the  youthful  man  of  physic, 

Glancing  up  at  the  mantel  clock. 

''Give  him  that  with  a  little  brandy 

To  counter-foil  the  cerebral  shock." 

Then  said  the  elder  man  and  bolder, 

"I  always  practice  what  T  preach. 

This  man's  temple  is  hot  and  throbbing. 

The  thing  for  that  is  a  hungry  leech." 

"Hungry  leeches   are   here  already." 

At  least  so  runneth  the  public  tongue. 

"That  was  a  maxim;  among  the  people, 

About  all  doctors  when  I  was  young." 

Pildash  said,  as  he  saw  his  rival 

Coddle  the  leeches  growing  red, 

Saw  them  swell  like  a  cow  in  clover 

And  drop  at  last  from  the  patient's  head — 

"You  are  wise  as  the  Hebrew  Prophet, 

Sly  and  cunning  as  Aesop's  fox. 

You  suggest,  we're  a  pair  of  leeches, 

I  suggest   we're   a  paradox." 

Pilgrave  laughed,  while  a  great  fiy  blister 

Warmed  and  tortured  the  deacon's  chest, 

Painting  that  in  the  deep  vermilion 

Sometimes  seen  in  the  glowing  west. 

All  this  time  the  beleagured  patient 

Lay  like  a  man  in  a  dull  dead  faint. 

Puffing  away  like  a  stranded   porpoise 

And  never  making  the  least  complaint. 

So  it  fell  that  these  faithful  rivals 

Stood  at  the  bedside  all  night  long 

Counting  the  pulse  of  the  weary  patient 

125 


Whom  they  had  promised  would  soon  be  strong. 

And  still  they  curried  and  combed  their  noddles 

And  racked  his  brains  for  a  better  dose, 

To  ring  the  bell  or  touch  the  button 

And  wake  the  brain  that  was  comatose. 

But  just  as  a  man  who  has  tugged  and  wrestled 

With  some  stupendous  affair  of  life, — 

Has  led  a  charge  in  the  front  of  battle. 

Or  faced  a  lion  in  deadly  strife 

Sits  down  to  rest  and  recount  his  prowess, 

To  listening  friends  with  a  kindly  grace, 

These  Esculapians  ceased  their  pother 

And  chaffed  each  other  about  the  case. 

Pildash  said  to  the  grave  old  doctor, 

"This  is  the  art  of  making  bread ! 

Pills  and  powder  and  mustard  plaster. 

Swathe  and  bandage  from  foot  to  head." 

Pilgrave  said  to. the  strippling  doctor, 

(Seeing  the  patient  was  dead  asleep) — 

"This  case  opens  the  road  to  fortune, 

A  goodly  harvest  that  we  must  reap !" 

"Aye,"  said  Pildash,  "It's  no  dishonor 

To  stand  by  a  man  in  his  hour  of  need. 

Don't  you  see  that  it  stands  to  reason 

The  sick  are  always  the  men  to  bleed? 

Bleed  them  first  in  the  left  basilic. 

Then  in  the  right,  if  the  case  gets  worse ; 

And  later  on,  when  the  man  is  better, 

Let  your  lancet  into  his  purse !" 

Then  he  said,  as  he  shook  with  laughter. 

And  twirled  an  twisted  his  brown  mustache, 

"That  is  the  way  I  see  you  seniors 

Have  for  paying  your  debts  in  cash  !" 

"Yes,"  said  the  older  son  of  Galen. 

"  'Hay  while  the  sun  shines,'  that's  the  way 

Wise  men  come  to  the  front  in  practice. 

Choose  your  victims,  then  make  them  pay. 

126 


Burglar's  eyes  catch  the  servants  napping-, 

And  tap  the  tills  while  the  bankers  sleep, 

And  he  who  garners  the  largest  harvest 

Is  he  who  sows  where  he  wants  to  reap. 

You  are  a  young  man  yet  in  physic, 

Honest  counsel  is  not  a  crime ; 

Pluck  old  geese,  and  a  good  fat  turkey 

Comes  to  )^our  table  at  Christmas  time!" 

Then  he  laughed  like  a  man  who  never 

Had  known  a  care  since  he  came  to  birth 

And  had  for  asking,  in  scripture  measure, 

The  best  things  found  on  the  great  round  earth 

But  still  the  man  with  the  bi-congestion 

Choking  the  channels  in  brain  and  purse 

Drew  his  breath  like  a  Corliss  engine 

And  all  conceded  him'  growing  worse. 

Pills  and  portions  were  weighed  and  doubled 

And  two  soon  came  to  be  eight  or  nine, 

Incandescent,  instead  of  cherry, 

The  tongs  tattooing  his  sluggish  spine, 

And  still  the  pumps  at  the  central  station 

Filling  his  lungs  and  his  tired  heart. 

Shook  with  exhaustions  laggard  tremors 

As  though  they  never  again  would  start. 

Some  few  squares  from  the  Deacon's  palace  , 

Francis  Schlatter,  the  healer,  dwelt : 

Round  about  him  in  rags  and  squalor 

Men  and  women  together  knelt, 

Waiting  there  as  the  ancient  leppers 

Christ  once  found  at  Bethesda's  pool. 

Each  intent  on  an  instant  blessing 

While  forgetting  the  golden  rule. 

Round  about  the  beleaguered  cottage 

All  night   long,  and  the  day  far  spent, 

Men  stood  fast,  and  the  waiting  women 

Gave  loud  voice  to  their  discontent. 

Th'  Deacon's  servant'  a  faithful  zealot, 

127 


Stood  in  the  driping  rain  all  night. 

Then,  with  his  handkerchief  blest,  departed 

Just  as  the  morning  smiled  with  light. 

Straight   to  his   master's   stately  chamber, 

Swift  as  an  arrow's  flight  he  sped, 

And  the  kerchief,  blessed  by  the  wondrous  healer, 

Was  oyer  the  Deacon's  temples  spread. 

Lo!     In  an  instant  all  was  over, 

Deacon   Smith  from  his  dreams  awoke. 

Springing  up  like  a  hunted  tiger, 

Out  of  his  swaddling  bands  he  broke. 

Tore  the  swathes  from  his  tortured  members, 

Flung  the  clout  from  his  shaven  head. 

Glared  at  the  two  dumfounded  doctors. 

Who  stood  there  wishing  they  were  dead. 

"What  in  hell  are  you  fellows  doing? 

Up  with  your  traps,  now,  quick,  and  walk! 

Out  of  my  house ! — or  I  swear  I'll  brain  you, 

I've  heard  all  of  your  devilish  talk!" 

Deacon  Smith  on  the  coming  Sunday. 

Wore  a  wig  when  he  went  to  church. 

And  some  years  later  his  will  was  opened. 

Two  smart   doctors  were  left  in   the  lurch. 


THE   NEW   CULT. 

"A  little  nonsense  now  and  then  is  physic  for  the  doctor  men. 

There's  a  wonderful  Doctor  in  Gooseberry  town, 
Xamed  Agathe  Alice  Angelica  Brown. 
But  what's  in  a  name?     Hath  our  Shakespeare  not  said 
That  the  rose  that  is  yellow  or  orange  or  red, 

128 


May  be  just  as  exquisite  and  delicate  too, 
As  the  rose  that  is  purple  or  pea-green  or  blue? 
It  was  so  in  this  case.     And  yet  Agathe  Brown 
Was  proud  of  her  name  and  her  fame  and  her  gown. 
And  she  was  linguacious  and  proud  to  parade 
The  position  she  held  in  that  mighty  crusade 
That  she  waged  against  doctors  who  fill  you  with  drugs 
From  their  marvelous  boxes  and  bottles  and  jugs. 
And  it  fell  to  my  lot  as  I  went  up  and  down. 
To  stop  over  Sunday  in  Gooseberry  town 
And  it  fell  to  my  lot  on  that  day  to  fall  sick 
With  an  ailment  that  hurried  me  like  the  old  Nick, 
And  as  no  other  doctor  was  known  in  the  town. 
The  great  Agathe  Alice  Angelica  Brown 
Was  summoned  in  haste  and  came  to  my  room 
Looking  happy  and  sweet  as  a  lotus  in  bloom, 
Full-jeweled  and  cased  in  a  mantle  of  fur, 
And  a  robe  to  be  envied  by  even  Ben  Hur, 
And  I  told  her  straight  way,  and  in  words  blunt  and  plain, 
That  I  just  wanted  something  to  wallop  my  pain; 
That  I  didn't  care  that   (-)   for  the  wrangle  of  schools, 
And  I  cared  a  deal  less  for  the  college  bred  fools. 
With  the  grace  of  a  mermaid  she  laid  off  her  cloak, 
And  divested  herself  of  her  tippet  and  toque, 
And  sat  down  beside  me,  and,  closing  her  eyes, 
Looking  wondrously  solemn,  and  witchingly  wise. 
She  lapsed  into  silence — a  virtue  imknown 
To  some  of  her  sex — and  I  stifled  the  groan 
That  rose  to  my  lips  like  a  wave  of  the  sea, 
From  the  ventral  dissentions  then  raging  in  me. 
For  tormina  tortured  by  internals  there 
And  made  me  just  ready  to  curse  and  to  swear, 
I  glowered  at  her,  and  she  smiled  back  at  me 
As  much  as  to  say,  "It's  all  right,  don't  you  see?" 
Until  in  amazement  I  finally  said — 
'Tor  Heaven's  sake,  Aladam,  don't  wait  till   I'm   dead. 
But  do  something  for  me,  this  minute,  riglit  now. 

129 


This  pain  cuts  me  up  like  a  two-shoveled  plow." 

"Be  silent  and  restful  a  moment,"  she  said, 

With  a  wave  of  her  hand  and  a  toss  of  her  head. 

And  relapsing  again  into  silence  she  sat 

In  magnificent  pose  like  my  grandmother's  cat. 

Then  I  blurted  out  hotly,  and  said  in  dispair, 

"Give  me  something  to  ease  me;  don't  sit  there  and  stare! 

Bring  a  mule  in  to  kick  me;  put  a  knife  to  my  throat; 

Get  a  battering  ram  or  an  old  billy  goat, 

And  batter  my  brains  out;  get  a  threshing  machine 

And  thresh  this  thing  out  of  my  liver  and  spleen  ! 

Do  any  old  thing  in  the  world  and  be  quick? 

Get  up  and  do  something;  I  tell  you  I'm  sick!" 

Then  she  opened  her  eyes  and  her  half  pouting  lips 

And  smiled  like  the  sun  coming  out  of  eclipse. 

And  she  murmured  and  twittered  in  sweet  winning  ways. 

Pinning  roses  of  rhetoric  onto  each  phrase, 

'Til  at  last,  quite  confounded,  I  lay  back  and  had 

A  horid  suspicion — The  woman  was  mad ! 

For  she  rolled  on  in  speech,  like  the  waves  of  the  sea. 

And  hurled  the  whole  body  of  doctrine  at  me. 

And  wound  up  by  saying:     "There's  nothing  but  thot 

When  you  think  you  are  sick  it  is  proof  you  are  not. 

A  little  reflection  will  make  it  all  plain ; 

That  no  man  or  woman  can  ever  have  pain ; 

It's  a  myth  and  delusion,  a  trick  of  your  thoi. 

When  you  think  you  have  pain,  it  is  proof  you  have  not. 

It  is  only  depravity  thwarting  the  truth, 

Planting  tares  in  the  garden  and  highway  of  youth. 

Coming  back  to  first  principles,  now  don't  you  see 

There  is  nothing  but  thot?       And  that  thot  makes  us  free. 

As  free  as  the  light,  which  is  only  a  thnt. 

For  light  is  so  gross  that  you  know  it  is  not. 

The  Immanent  soul  take  cognition,  you  see. 

And  the  Eminent  goes;  and  those  two  thots    agree. 

So  the  reason  is  plain,  and,  it  needs  but  a  word 

To  sh(Jiv  that  your  notion  of  pain  is  absurd. 

130 


To  prove  it,  I'll  hold  you  in  thot  for  a  spell. 
And  your  notion  will  vanish,  and  all  will  be  well." 
When  she  rose.,  she  looked  round  and  said — "Hold  to  the  thai 
When  you  think  you  are  sick,  it  is  proof  you  are  not." 
Reattired,  she  stood  for  a  moment  or  two, 
Looking  off  into  space — then  without  more  ado 
Shook  her  feathers  and  walked  to  the  half  open  door, 
And  paused  on  the  threshold  to  tell  me  once  more : 
"You  think  you  are  sick,  but  you  see  you  are  not. 
Just  keep  that  in  mind  and  just  hold  to  the  ihof." 
Her  steps  died  away  and  I  heard  them  no  more. 
But  the  bar-tender  came  and  looked  in  at  the  door 
And  bowing  profoundh*.  he  said  with  a  wink. — 
"When  I  has  the  colic,  I  takes  a  big  drink. 
\  big  horn  of  brandv.  or  hot  whiskey  stew. 
Is  about  the  right  thing,  sir,  I'm  thinking,  for  you." 
He  brought  me  a  pitcher  of  hot.  steaming  stuff. 
And  said  there  was  more,  if  that  wasn't  enough. 
And  I  filled  myself  up  on  the  hell-broth  he  brought. 
And  have  always  rejoiced  at  the  miracle  wrought. 
Next  day  I  received  from  the  doctor  a  note. 
With  a  bill  for  ten  dollars ;  and  sat  down  and  wrote. 
"Tit  for  tat  is  a  maxim  as  old  as  the  sphinx: 
I  am  quite  well  to-day  but  I  paid  for  the  drinks. 
Yet  still  I  am  mindful  of  all  that  you  said 
As  you  talked  me  to  death  on  a  pain-tortured  bed. 
And  what  you  there  told  me,  of  course,  must  be  true. 
So  I  hand  your  philosophy  all  back  to  you : 
If  I  was  not  sick,  there  was  nothing  to  cure. 
And  that  being  so — ^then  the  fact  is  dead  sure 
Your  bill  is  a  humbug;  there  is  nothing  but  (hot. 
When  you  think  you  want  money,  it's  proof  you  do  not." 


131 


OUR    MENTOR. 

There's  a  clanging  bell  in  the  tower  of  Time 
Whose  notes  of  challenge  are  all  sublime. 
And  the  ringer  stands  on  that  dizzy  height 
And  clangs  the  changes  of  day  and  night. 
He  clangs  his  bell  while  the  seasons  keep 
Their  onward  way  l-ke  the  billowed  deep. 
He  clangs  his  bell  while  the  vagrant  years 
Break  ranks  and  hurry  away  in  tears. 
He  clangs  his  bell,  and  immortal  man 
Takes  step  and  marches  a  little  span 
And  then  drops  out,  whether  yotmg  or  old. 
To  hide  himself  in  the  closing  mould. 
And  all  who  harken  to-day  may  hear 
The  voice  of  God  to  the  Rolling  sphere 
In  thunder-tones  over  land   and  sea 
As  the  great  bell  clangs  "FRATERNITY." 

But  on  the  morrow,  in  under-tone, 
That  seeketh  and  speaketh  to  thee  alone. 
Another  voice  from  that  bell  shall  say ; — 
"Here  is  thy  burden,  and  there  thy  way. 
My  name  is  Duty,  and  when  I  call 
Withdraw  thy  shadow  from  pleasure's  hall 
And  leave  to  others  to  joust  with  wrong. 
In  ways  cast  up  for  the  great  and  strong ; 
Leave  Press  and   Pulpit  and  Public  School 
To  curb  the  vicious,  and  quench  the  fool. 
Thy  mission  is  higher  than  theirs'  I  trow. 
Thy  blade  was  forged  for  a  deadlier  foe. 
There  is  one  path  only  thy  feet  may  tread  ; 
There  light  shall  hallow  thy  sacred  head, 

132 


And  strenotli  descend  to  ihy  strong  right  arm. 
And  courage  rescue  thy  soul  from  harm. 
Comb  all  the  beaches  of  learning's  sea 
For  that  which  haply  may  come  to  thee, 
And  thou  shalt  find  in  its  tangled  wrath 
Weapons  less  fortunate  men  shall  lack 
My  name  is  Duty,  and  I  command 
That  thou  in  armor  go  up  and  stand     , 
In  yonder  cottage,  where  want  is  plain. 
And  prayers  for  comfort  and  peace  are  vain, 
Where  cold  and  hunger  and  naked  feet 
Appeal  in  vain  to  the  roaring  street. 
There  on  a  pallet  of  straw  lies  one 
Who  prays  for  succor,  and  findeth  none, 
For  Death  is  there  wuth  his  bloody  hand 
Clutched  tight  on  the  hilt  of  his  dripping  brand. 
Find  there  thy  battle,  and  let  thy  steel 
Make  good  thy  promise  of  skill  and  zeal." 

The  next  good  morrow,  at  break  of  day, 

That  voice  shall  scatter  thy  dreams  and  say- — 

"Go  thou  straightway  to  yon  gilded  hall 

Where  sounds  of  revelry  rise  and  fall. 

Where  shame-faced  women  and  men  accursed 

Consort  to  quench  their  unhallowed  thirst. 

There  shalt  thou  find  on  a  sin-cursed  cot 

A  soul  that  suffers,  no  matter  what. 

Enough  that  one  of  thy  human-kind 

Is  racked  with  pain,  and  is  poor  and  blind, 

And  hard  beset  by  that  grim  old  sprite 

That  Avears  the  cloak  of  eternal  n-ght. 

Strike  there!     Nor  reckon  the  marks  of  sin, 

A  soul  immortal  is  housed  within ; 

Strike  there!     And  see  that  thy  blows  are  spent 

In  service  whereto  thou  art  this  day  sent.^' 

Then  on  a  day  that  shall  dawn  ere  long, 

That  voice  shall  chant  thee  as  sweet  a  song 

133 


As  the  shepherds  sang^  in  Bethlehem 

When  the  mangered  infant  was  born  to  them. 

M'ake  thou  no  question   of  works   or  creeds, 

But  go  to  the  manger,  if  so  it  needs, 

And  guide  some  soul  in  its  earthward  flight 

From  the  hand  of  God  -to  the  gates  of  light. 

Converting  its  pain  into  poesy, 

And, its  woe   into  tuneful  melody. 

On  a  day  to  follow,  that  voice  shall  ring; — 

"Go  thou  up  yonder  to  mammon's  king. 

For  he  is  laid  on  a  couch  of  pain, 

Recalled  from  leading  the  hosts  of  gain. 

Reck  not  if  ever  his  jeweled  hand 

Held  gains  ill-gotten  from  every  land; 

In  his  debentures  hold  thou  no  share, 

Leave  God  to  render  the  judgment  there; 

But  see  that  death  from  thy  fellow-man 

Shall  stand  aloof  his  alloted  span.-" 

And  still  on  a  day  not  far  to  seek 

Thou  shalt  hear  thy  mentor  as  plainly  speak ; — 

"Make  haste  in  mercy  and  let  thy  feet 

Out-measure  time  on  the  crowded  street, 

Till  thou  art  come  to  the  city's  bound 

Where  the  great  black  dragon  of  death  is  found 

In  the  cloak  of  pestilence,  crouching  low 

Above  a  scene  of  unmeasured  Avoe. 

Where  only  the  stoutest  of  heart  may  dare 

Set  face  or  foot  in  its  stifTled  air. 

Strike  there !  nor  falter,  nor  turn  aside, 

Till  the  issues  of  life  and  death  are  tried." 

On  another  day  when  the  sea  shalt  roar 
And  ships  are  cast  on  the  wreck-strewn  shore 
And  the  ocean  vomits  her  ghastly  dead. 
And  men  shall  shiver  and  quake  with  dread, 
That  voice  shall  summon  thy  feet  in  haste 

134 


Where  death  took  fright  and  his  steps  retraced, 
Leaving  some  souls  in  that  awful  strife 
Still  clinging-  a  space  to  the  thread  of  life. 
There  Duty  holdeth  her  lamp  for  thee 
And  bids  thy  service  be  large  and  free.   • 
For  they  who  tarry  unsheeted  there 
Have  need  of  thy  utmost-  love  and  care. 

On  a  day  that  shall* cover  the  earth  with  dread, 
When  the  field  of  carnage  lies  strewn  with  dead, 
And  mangled  foemen  lie  heaped  and  piled 
In  whirlwind  fashion,  uncouth  and  wild, 
Where  Death's  dread  reaper,  in  sheaving,  hath 
Left  only  the  scattered  after-math. 
That  voice  shall  ring  in  thy  startled  ear; — 
"With  all  thy  wisdom  and  might,  strike  here ! 
Strike  on,  strike  on,  until  life's  great  foe 
Is  beaten  back  from:  that  scene  of  woe !" 

So,  day  after  day.  it  shall  come  to  thee, 

As  it  did  to  the  Prophet  of  Galilee, 

To  leave  all   question   of  minor  things 

To  minor  men,  and  go  up  like  kings 

To  the  greater  battle  the  world  demands 

Of  its  greater  men,  with  their  stronger  hands. 

And  so  I  bid  you  God-speed,  today ; 

Go  hence  and  follow  the  narrow  way 

Where  Duty  leads  with  her  glowing  lamp 

In  the  crowded  street,  in  the  field  and  camp, 

In  the  honored  paths  where  the  great  have  trod. 

In  fealty  to  mankind  and  God, 

Like  the  old  Zamindar  of  Hindoostan, 

Who  prayed  each  day  to  be  such  a  man 

That  he  might  do  for  his  mortal  kind 

All  good  conceived  by  the  All-wise  Mind. 


135 


THE   WAY  OF   THE   WORLD. 

BY  ELLA  WHEELER  WILCOX. 

Laugh,  and  the  world  laughs  with  you; 

Weep,  and  you  weep  alone ; 
For  this  brave  old  earth  must  borrow  its  mirth. 

It  has  troubles  enough  of  its  own. 
Sing,  and  the  hills  will  answer ; 

Sigh,  it  is  lost  on  the  air; 
The  echoes  bound  to  a  joyful  sound, 

But  shrink  from  voicing  care. 

Rejoice,  and  men  will  seek  you ; 

Grieve,  and  they  turn  and  go; 
They  want  full  measure  of  all  your  pleasure. 

But  they  do  not  want  your  woe. 
Be  glad,  and  your  friends  are  many; 

Be  sad,  and  you  lose  them  all. 
There  are  none  to  decline  your  nectared  wine. 

But  alone  you  must  drink  life's  gall. 

Feast,  and  your  halls  are  crowded ; 

Fast,  and  the  world  goes  by  ; 
Succeed,  and  give,  and  it  helps  you  to  live. 

But  no  man  can  help  you  die. 
There  is  room  in  the  halls  of  pleasure 

For  a  long  and  lordly  train. 
But  one  by  one  we  must  all  file  on 

Through   the   narrow  isles  of  pain. 


t-6 


A  DOCTOR'S   DREA>[. 

BY    DR.    G.    D.    MOOIIK. 

Last  evening  I  was  talking 

With  a  doctor,  aged  and   gray, 

Who  told  me  of  a  dream   he  had, 
I  think  'twas  Christmas  day. 

While  snoozing  in  his  olifice 

The  vision  came  to  view. 
For  he  saw  an  angel  enter 

Dressed   in   garments   white   and   new 

Said   the  angel.   "I'm   from   heaven: 
The   Lord  just  sent  me  down 

To  bring  you  up  to  glory 
To  wear  3'our  golden  crown. 

"You've  been  a  friend  to  everyone, 
And  worked  hard  night  and  day; 

You  have  doctored  many  thousands 
And  from  few  received  your  pay. 

"So  we  want  you  up  in  glory. 

For  you  have  labored  hard, 
And  the  good  Lord  is  preparing 

Your   eternal,   just   reward." 

Then  the  angel  and  the  doctor 
Started  up  to  glory's  gate. 
But  when   passing  close  to   Hades 
The  angel  murmured;  ."Wait." 

137 


"I  have  a  place  here  to  show  you; 

It's  the  hottest  place  in  hell, 
Where  the  ones  who  never  paid  you 

In  torment  always  dwell." 

And'  behold  the  doctor  saw  there 
His  old  patients  by  the  score, 

And  taking  up  a  chair  and  fan 
He  wished  for  nothing  more. 

But  was  bound  to  sit  and  watch  them, 
As  they  sizzle,  singe  and  burn, 

And  his  eyes  would  rest  on  debtors 
Whichever  way  they'd  turn. 

Said  the  angel,  "Come  on,  doctor," 
There's  the  pearly  gates  I  see." 

But  the  doctor  only  murmured : 
"This  is  good  enough  for  me." 

He  refused  to  go  on  further, 
But  preferred  to  sit  and  gaze 

At  the  crowd  of  rank,  old  dead  beats, 
As  they  lay  there  in  the  blaze. 

But  just  then  the  doctor's  clock 
Cuckooed  the  hour  of  seven. 

And  he  awoke  to  find  himself 
In  neither  hell  or  heaven. 


138 


THE  DOCTOR'S  PROMISED   LAND. 

I'.Y  J.  P..  MITCHELL,  M.  D.,  SNEEDVILLE,  TEN.— IX  I'll  I  r-Al)i;i,l'1 1 1  A 
.MEDICAL  WORLD. 

Tell  me  ye  winged  winds 

That  round  my  pathway  play, 
Is  there  no  place  on  earth 

Where  Doctors  get  their  pay? 
The  whispering  winds  went  by 

With  accents  filled  with  woe ; 
A  voice  borne  on  the  morning  air 

In  sadness  answers  "No." 


Tell  me  ye  flowing  streams 

That  smoothly  glide  along, 
Is  there  no  cherished  place 

Where  Doctors  meet  no  wrong? 
The  gentle  brook  replied 

In  murmurs  soft  and  low, 
And  wending  on  its  verdant  way 

It  meekly  answered  ''No." 

Tell  me  ye  murky  clouds 

Now  rising  in   the  West, 
Is   there   upon  the   globe 

One  spot  by  doctors  blessed? 
The  flushing  clouds   outspoke 

With  an  indignant  glow ; 
A  voice  that  filled  the  earth  with  awe 

In  thunders  answered  "No." 

139 


Tell  me,  angelic  host, 

Ye   messengers   of  love. 
Shall  suffering  Doctors  here  below 

Have  no  redress  above? 
The   angel   band   replied : 

"To  us  is  knowledge  given ; 
Delinquents   on   Physicians'  books 

Can  never  enter  Heaven." 


140 


Tnaex. 

Page 

A  Calf  Story 96 

Actual  Experience 99 

A  Curious  Light 58 

A  Doctor's  Dream 137 

A  Faithful  Minister 94 

A  Female  Ghost 38 

A  Few  Authentic  Stories — 

A  Haunted  House 56 

The  Angel  Came 56 

The  Dog's  Ghost 57 

A  Foolish  Deed 43 

A  Ghostly  Cat 12 

A  Ghost  Story 50 

A  Ghost  Story  That  is  True 15 

'  'A  Hashish  Fiend" 26 

A  Headless  Man 44 

A  Kentucky  Ghost  Story i 

A  Ivcap  in  the  Dark 71 

A  Lively  Corpse 21 

A  Live  Ghost  in  Broad  Daylight 67 

A  Lively  Spirit 31 

A  Modern  Instance 122 

An  Actual  and  Recent  Experience 106 

An  Actual  Experience 46 

"A  Nice  Mut-ting" 97 

An  Original  Ghost  Story 13 

A  Preacher  Tempted  by  a  Stubborn  Calf 106 

A  Rooster  Pulling 77 

A  Sad  Story 41 

A  Serious  Mistake 99 

A  Sure  Cure  for  Meningitis 75 

A  Ten  Dollar  Story 83 

A  Twist  Untwisted 29 

A  Veritable  Ghost 19 

Back  Biting 92 

Don't  Be  Afraid loi 

Fogy  Practice 89 


Page 
Four  Ghost  Stories  - 

'"Sandy"  and  the  Graveyard  Spook 5 

Donald  and  the  Speaking  Sheep's  Head 6 

The  Devil  Does  Not  Understand  Gaelic 7 

How  a  Roving  Pig  Acted  the  Ghost S 

Grandpa's  Butter 91 

How  I  Played  Ghost 102 

How  to  Clean  a  Chimney 93 

Love  at  First  Sight 80 

Mind  Over  Matter 86 

My  Delusion 46 

My  Dog  Fight 85 

My  Encounter  with  a  Lion 61 

My  First  Tooth-Pull  by  a  Horse 104 

My  Ghostly  Experience 9 

My  Greatest  Fright 40 

My  Hardest  Fall 73 

My  Own  Ghost 36 

Our  Mentor 132 

Politics  and  Medicine 68 

She  Took  Her  Medicine 84 

Superstition  vs.  Cold  Facts 25 

The  Battle  of  Life 105 

The  Dissecting  Room 58 

The  Doctor's  Promised  Land 139 

The  Ghost  of  Poplar  Orchard 32 

The  Haunted  Cabin 48 

The  Haunted  School  House 62 

The  New  Cult 128 

The  Springlands  Ghost 55 

The  Way  of  the  World 136 

The  World's  Debt  to  Surger>^ 108 

Anaesthesia 114 

In  War 116 

In  Civil  Life iig 

Surgical  Literature 121 

Three  Ghosts 53 

Two  Ghost  Stories ■ 22 

Was  It  a  Ghost  ? 43 


EYE  AND  EAR  HOSPITAL 

DR.    SHORT'S    PRIVATE    EYE    AND    EAR 
HOSPITAL    IS    NOW    READY 


A  fine  place  near  the  park,  where  patients  may  select  their  own 
physician. 

730  square  feet  of  porch,  and  fine  yard. 

The  most  splendid  water  that  the  world  affords. 

Treatment  of  patients   the   very   best,    and  terms  exceedingly 
reasonable. 

Main  Street  cars  pass  the  door. 


Located    at    No.    9,    South   McKinley   Avenue. 

Take  street  cars  going  west  and  get  off  at  Grand  and  McKinley 
Avenues. 


We    will    meet   all    Patients   from   a    distance  at  the  train,    if 
notified. 


ADDRESS 


J.  L.  SHORT,  M.D.,       *Ok4ahoma  city,  Okla. 


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UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 

Los  Angeles 
This  book  is  DUE  on  the  last  date  stamped  below 


Form  L9-Series  4939 


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